A Scorpius' Sting
by PJ XD
Summary: When Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy stopped being friends and started being enemies, they thought they put their love for each other behind them. But when Scorpius gets in trouble, can Rose forget about the bad blood and save her first love? RW/SM
1. Hogwarts: A History Revised

_First Year_

I pushed open the door to the only empty compartment I could see, huffing with the effort of tugging at the stiff door. Albus laughed quietly under his breath at my struggle, and I turned around to shoot him a stern glare I had learnt off my mother. I grinned when he flinched.

'Rosie, do you need a hand?' he asked brightly, still trying to keep the laughter out of his voice. By this point I had managed to pull the door from its stiff hinge and slide it open, so I shook my head and ducked into the compartment.

I jumped when I realised that it wasn't as empty as I'd originally thought. Someone was hunched up over a very thick looking book. I read the title with a note of surprise – Hogwarts: A Revised History. That was one of the school books I had read already, purely for the reason that it gave a detailed description of my family's heroism in the Great Battle Of Hogwarts. Minerva McGonagall, a family friend of ours, was the very person who had made the changes to the old edition of Hogwarts: A History when she had been Headmistress herself.

The boy glanced up with a start as I entered, and I noted with surprise that he was the very boy my father had pointed out to Uncle Harry on the platform; pale, tall for his age, and platinum blond. I didn't really acknowledge that about him though, what I noticed was that he had the saddest grey eyes I had ever seen – stormy and troubled. His eyes looked an awful lot older than eleven.

'Hi,' he said nervously.

'Hello. Do you mind if we sit here?' I asked cheerfully. He shook his head.

I shuffled further into the compartment and took the seat opposite the blond boy. Albus slid the door shut with a small thud and sauntered over to sit by my side, staring at the boy. He must have felt like he was being interviewed.

'I'm Albus, Albus Potter, and this is Rose Weasley,' Al introduced us to the pale boy.

'Scorpius Malfoy,' he replied quietly.

'Are you Draco Malfoy's son then?' Albus asked interestedly. Scorpius Malfoy nodded in a glum sort of way.

'I'm sure everyone's heard my name before,' he sighed wistfully, and the sadness in his eyes increased in intensity. I felt the urge to give him a hug.

'Everyone's heard my name too,' Albus shrugged nonchalantly. I couldn't help but think that he was missing the point a bit, but I wasn't about to tell him that.

'You're father was a war hero, Potter. Mine was a Death Eater.'

Silence stretched between us as we searched desperately for something to say to each other.

'But it's different,' was all I could think of. Pretty pathetic, really. 'It's different now.'

Scorpius Malfoy looked at me with his mercury grey eyes, and I felt like a five year old who didn't get a joke. Except this situation was in no way funny.

'Maybe for you, Rose.'

* * *

'Madden, Emily!' Professor Longbottom called. Emily Madden marched forward confidently, hopping onto the stool and jamming the Sorting Hat onto her head. It was silent for a moment, before opening its rip of a mouth and shouting,

'HUFFLEPUFF!'

'Malfoy, Scorpius!'

A hushed silence met my ears as I watched Scorpius Malfoy ascend the steps to the stool. All eyes followed his progress, mutterings coming from all directions.

'Malfoy, did he say?' said one Ravenclaw.

'His Dad nearly killed Albus Dumbledore!' a Gryffindor whispered to her neighbour.

'His dad was a Death Eater, that's what I heard, an enemy of Harry Potter himself!'

Scorpius Malfoy glanced over at Albus and I, as if to say 'I told you so.'

The hat was silent for a long time when it was placed on his head. The entire hall held their breaths until it opened its ripped mouth wide and yelled to the enchanted ceiling,

'SLYTHERIN!'

A ripple of whispers filled the hall. Even the teachers seemed to be taken aback. I grimaced at Malfoy's expression as he shakily got up from the chair and handed back the Sorting Hat to Professor Longbottom.

'Just like his father after all.' I heard a Ravenclaw whisper to another.

_

* * *

_

_Second Year_

'Rose, what're you doing?' A quiet voice came from behind me and I jumped.

'Nothing really, Scorp, just studying.' I patted the ground beside me as an invitation for him to sit down, which he did.

'What else is new?' he asked, laughter in his voice.

'Are you still hanging around with Darren Nott?' I demanded abruptly. Lately, Scorpius had been worrying me a little. His grandfather had a surprising amount of influence, so he had been making friends with the Slytherins to appease him, and a nasty bunch they all were.

'Granddad thinks he's good for me,' Scorpius shrugged, running a hand through his unruly platinum blond hair.

'He's wrong, Scorp. He's not a nice person at all, really, he...' I stopped speaking as a shadow loomed over me. Scorpius' face whitened as he looked up into Darren Nott's livid expression.

'Weasel, what was that you were saying about me?' he asked in a dangerous voice.

'That you aren't very nice. It's true,' I defended myself.

'Scorpius, is that true? Am I not nice?' Nott glared down at Scorpius, silently daring him to agree with me. Nott was a scary-looking fourth year, all brawn and no brains.

I watched Scorpius out of the corner of my eye for his reaction. He shook his head back and forth jerkily.

'Well, then. Weasel's a liar. And my friends don't mix with liars.' Nott seized Scorpius roughly by the wrist and dragged him to his feet. 'C'mon, Scor.'

My blue eyes met his stormy grey, and they were full of apology. 'Sorry, Rosie,' he mouthed at me as Nott led him away.

I bit my lip to stop myself from crying. Or shouting. Possibly both.

_

* * *

_

_Third Year_

I watched Albus sort through a large pile of parchment, muttering dire threats about his Divination professor, old Trelawney, and where she could stick her stupid dream diaries. I tried not to laugh at his harassed expression.

'Al, why are you taking Divination? You know what Uncle Harry said about Trelawney...'

'Yeah, but I want Firenze, he's meant to be...'

'Potter, Weasley.' A drawling, bored voice interrupted our conversation. I glanced up to see a tall, blond boy with a sneer on his handsome face. It didn't look like it belonged there.

'Hello, Malfoy,' Al said coldly. I hated this. I hated us not being friends anymore. Something had changed in second year. Something had broken between us, and we all felt it. Then, when third year started up... we were categorically not friends anymore.

'You're in my spot,' Scorpius spat at us.

'Don't see your name on it, Malfoy.' Albus had settled into the old prejudice a lot more comfortably than I had, and seemed perfectly content to hate Scorpius with all the passion that he could muster up.

'Well, you need glasses like your famous father then, Potter. Move.'

'Get lost!'

'Stop it!' I snapped at the pair of them, furious. 'What's happened to you?'

Both of them looked at me like I was deliberately being stupid. Like I refused to see the truth when it was as plain as the noses on their faces.

'It's called growing up, Rose,' both boys said at the same time.

_

* * *

_

_Fourth Year_

I nearly collided with Scorpius Malfoy and his cronies as I turned the corner on the way to Potions, but I managed to keep quiet and hide behind a wall. Some Gryffindor I was, I thought miserably. The Cowardly Lion looked like Braveheart next to me.

'And personally, I think the whole idea of a Yule Ball is just stupid,' Scorpius was venting, and I could practically hear his eyes rolling.

'Who are you taking, Scor? I bet you won't have any trouble finding a date!' Joseph Corner, Scorpius's only Ravenclaw friend asked cheerfully.

'I don't know yet, I'll have to think,' he said carefully, and I secretly began to hope. I had been hoping, on and off for the last fortnight, that he might ask me. Maybe, if he decided I was right, that we were being stupid about the whole "enemies" thing...

'Hey, in case all the girls are taken before you decide, I expect you could always take Weasley!' Ferdinand Goyle said scornfully, and all the boys laughed. I frowned against the injustice of their laughter.

Scorpius would tell them off, surely?

'Weasley?' he sneered, his voice vicious. 'Why in Merlin's name would I ever ask her? Of all the girls in Hogwarts... she looks like a troll that someone experimented on and accidentally shrunk... only with ginger hair and spattergroit!'

The boys roared with laughter again. I held my breath to keep from gasping. I didn't want them to know I was here, and I really didn't want to give them the satisfaction of seeing me cry. I tried to rein in the tears, but they spilled down my cheeks anyway. How could he say that about me? How could he?

'Hey, Scor, you dropped one of your quills over there.' I could see the quill Joseph was referring to. It was directly in my eye line, so if he came to retrieve it... he would see me. It wasn't like I could move without exposing myself though.

I heard steady, even footfalls, and then Scorpius was in front of me, bending down to pick up his peacock feather quill. He straightened up and turned to go back to his friends... and his eyes fell on me, back pressed against the wall and tears streaming down my face.

He winced like he'd been crucioed. His grey gaze held mine for a moment, and his eyes were full of anguish. He knew I'd heard, and I hoped he felt terrible.

'How could you be that cruel?' I asked in the barest hint of a whisper. Obstructed from view as we were, they couldn't even see their friend properly.

Remorse flashed across Scorpius's face for a second. 'I didn't mean it,' he replied in an equally silent way.

I glared into his face, wishing for nothing more than being able to perform the Cruciatus curse on him for real. He was so handsome, even more so than when we started school... but he wasn't the same boy, and in that second, I knew he never would be. Now, he was just like them. Pathetic. A coward.

'Yeah? Well, I mean this. I hate you, Scorpius Malfoy. I really, truly hate you. And you drove me to it.'

I watched his face drain of all colour, before it became smooth and expressionless. An unfeeling, unthinking mask.

'Weasley, don't lurk behind pillars. You know what they say about eavesdroppers,' he said nastily, and in a very carrying voice.

I gasped. If I had thought that he was cruel before...

'What do they say, Malfoy?' I asked in a voice like ice. Hatred burned white hot in my veins.

'That they never hear good of themselves. And you certainly didn't.' His comment was half drowned out by the crowing laughter of his animalistic friends.

'I wouldn't stand too close to me for the next few years then, Malfoy. I'd take your own advice.' My voice was venomous.

'I wouldn't – spattergroit is contagious.' Another laugh echoed down the halls.

'I was talking about eavesdropping.'

'But it only affects you if you actually care, Weasley.' Malfoy pointed out coldly.

'Hate is a strong word Malfoy, but for you, not strong enough.'

'That hurt, Weasley,' he said scathingly. But one look in his eyes told me it did, deep down.

What surprised me more was that I didn't care how much I hurt him anymore. The more hurt the better. I wanted him to hate me as much as I hated him.

_

* * *

_

_Fifth Year_

'Have you seen Malfoy play Quidditch? He's amazing!' Lily swooned to Hugo as they walked down to the pitch, a little way ahead of myself and a very nervous Albus. He had gone a nasty shade of green. It was only natural – it was his first year as Quidditch Captain.

'Shut up about sodding Malfoy, Lily!' Hugo cried in exasperation. I had a sudden urge to hug my brother tightly and give him my entire supply of puking pastilles. He'd been after them for years.

'But he's gorgeous!' Lily sighed wistfully.

'He's an idiot!' Al disagreed hotly. I nodded fiercely at Al's comment, before I realised that Lily couldn't see me. I knew, perhaps better than most, how much of an idiot Scorpius Malfoy was.

'That's a tad harsh, Potter.' A drawling voice interrupted our conversation. I flinched before I turned around. There, green robes billowing slightly in the wind and broomstick clutched in his hand, stood the bane of my existence.

'Malfoy, surely you have someone else to annoy?' I growled at him, speeding up my pace. Tall as he was, he kept up easily, one of his long strides matching two of my own.

'But then, why would I when annoying you gives me so much satisfaction?' he smirked.

'Go play with the venomous tentacula, Malfoy,' I retorted.

'It's a damn sight nicer than you, Weasley, true enough, but its reactions aren't as funny.'

'Or better yet...' I whipped around, so that Malfoy stopped dead to avoid walking into me. 'Why don't you go and help Professor Longbottom repot Mandrakes without earmuffs? That way, I can dance on your grave.'

It looked like Malfoy was about to laugh at my comment. His lips twitched, anyway.

'At least I'd never have to look at your ugly face again,' he shrugged, and I ground my teeth together.

'Leave, Malfoy! Just bloody well go back to wherever you came from, under some slimy rock with your Death Eater family, okay?!' Hugo shouted viciously. We all gasped at his comment. Nobody ever used that insult. Nobody talked about the Death Eaters, unless it was before Voldemort died.

Malfoy's face was unreadable. 'Sure, Weasley. Wow, that was almost as good an insult as a punch in the face. Your filthy mudblood mother would be proud.'

There was a stunned, horrible silence. Worse than calling someone a Death Eater... you never used the word Mudblood.

I didn't see Hugo's fist as it flew through the air, but I certainly heard the crunch it made when he broke Malfoy's nose.

And he deserved it.

_

* * *

_

_Sixth Year_

'No way!' I shouted, disgusted. 'I have to do prefect duty with Scorpius Malfoy?'

'Rosie, it isn't that bad,' Albus tried to console me, but I wasn't buying it.

'Are you kidding? Scorpius bloody Malfoy! Who're you paired with?' I demanded, folding my arms across my chest so tightly that I seemed unlikely to ever uncross them.

'Um... Tia Goldstein,' he replied apologetically.

'What? How is that fair?' I cried, slamming my fist into the prefect notice board.

'No way! Weasley! I have to do prefect duties with Weasley!' I heard a cry from somewhere behind me, and then a sympathetic, 'Aww, Scor!'

'Seriously, Sophie, how am I supposed to even look at her without being sick?' Scorpius Malfoy demanded to his fellow sixth year prefect, Sophie Avery.

'I dunno, Scor, but I feel so sorry for you!'

'Who've you got?' he asked her abruptly.

'Um... Mark Macmillan,' she admitted.

'You get a Hufflepuff! Why do I get stuck with a bloody Gryffindor? And not just any bloody Gryffindor, but Rose know-it-all Weasley! She's insufferable! What in the name of Merlin was McGonagall thinking?'

I had heard enough to want to vomit all over my shoes. Scorpius Malfoy had that effect on me.

'C'mon Rosie, let's go...' Al tugged at my arm, and I obeyed him silently. Arrogant Malfoy, who had the handsomest outside in our year... and the ugliest inside in our school. I couldn't stomach a whole year with him. I couldn't stomach a whole minute with him.

At least it was only an hour every second night. It wasn't like I had to live with him.

Only an hour's endurance.


	2. The Hogwarts Express Again

'I officially hate the doors on this train!' I growled, whilst Albus crowed with laughter behind me. I was struggling with the door yet again. Why had nobody bothered to oil these things in seven years?

'Want me to open it for you, Rosie?' he offered when he caught his breath. I glowered.

'No, I...' I managed to push it open all the way with a satisfying thump. 'I'm fine.'

I went to walk into the heads' carriage... and stopped dead. There was one person sitting by the window, a book propped open in his lap as he spun his wand through his fingers like a baton, creating showers of sparks. That handsome, arrogant face was the last one I wanted to see, but even less welcome was the silver badge pinned to his silver and green tie.

'Malfoy... you're head boy?' I shrieked, incensed.

He glanced up as we entered; his grey eyes cold and distant. 'Yup. Well done, Weasley, you aren't blind.'

'I think I'm gonna go...' Albus said quietly, his gaze swivelling between me and Malfoy, who was glaring disgustedly in our direction.

'Don't you dare leave me!' I hissed at Al. He gave me an apologetic glance.

'So... bye!' he exclaimed, and ducked out of sight, practically running down the corridor. Sometimes I had to wonder where his spine really was. He was supposed to be a Gryffindor, for Merlin's sake!

I walked reluctantly into the compartment and slid the door closed behind me. Part of me was inwardly screaming to run away, and another part wanted to satisfy some curiosity that I couldn't explain. The second part won out eventually, and I sat down stiffly opposite Malfoy, who had returned to his book, completely ignoring my presence.

'I can't believe they made you head boy,' I sighed, shaking my head in incredulity. Malfoy's eyes flickered up to my face for a second, and I saw his trademark smug smirk pulling up one corner of his mouth.

'I was a little surprised too, Weasley. But now that I see you sitting here, I know that it was just McGonagall getting me back for all my detentions over the last few years.' He turned a page in his book nonchalantly. 'This will be the ultimate endurance test.'

'Your Slytherin friends aren't here, Malfoy. You don't have to pretend that you hate me.' I had no idea what made me say those words, but they slipped out before I could think them through. I'd expected him to sneer, but the strangest expression crossed his face. It looked like my Dad trying to work out how to use a computer. Slightly frustrated and incredibly puzzled.

'What makes you think I'm pretending?' he asked, though his question sounded more curious than spiteful.

'You can bully me all you want. You can hang out with your dreadful friends and listen to your grandfather all you want, but don't forget that I know you. Or at least, I did.' I was shocked by how upfront I was being. Malfoy's stormy grey eyes widened slightly, and I could tell he was thinking the same thing.

'I've changed since second year, Weasley,' he replied, and there was some sort of challenge in his words that I didn't understand.

'Really?' I feigned surprise and reached over to pull his book out of his grasp. He wasn't expecting it, so his hands slid away from the pages as I pulled it towards me. I glanced at the page he was reading. _The Inner Circle of Lord Voldemort._ One sentence jumped out at me; _The Malfoy family were among Voldemort's (formerly He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named) closest and most loyal followers, even going as far as, during the Great War, offering their own manor house as accommodation for Voldemort and the other Death Eaters, much in the way that Grimmauld Place – the house in which Harry Potter still resides – was used to house the Order of the Phoenix. _

The book was torn a little here, by what looked like fingernails digging into the page. I felt a great swell of pity that raised a lump in my throat, though I wasn't immediately sure why.

'I know you hate this,' I whispered. Malfoy was frozen into a casual position, though I could see how uncomfortable he truly was. His face was blank, apart from his eyes. The tortured expression I had seen on the first day I had met him, the very first train ride to Hogwarts, which had returned. And for one second I saw a glimpse of the boy he was back then. One fleeting glimpse and it was gone, to be replaced by a hard, stony expression that made his face look somehow less than human.

'Give me my book back,' he ordered. I handed it over silently, wishing that I hadn't taken it in the first place. The question I was dying to ask burned on my tongue, itching to be said.

'Why read it?' I blurted, unable to hold it in. 'If it's just going to upset you, why read it? Why not ignore...' I trailed off as he glared.

'You have no idea about any of this, and I'm not going to bother explaining it to you. Do me a favour, Weasley, and shut up. I've had enough of your annoying voice.' His tone was full of sneering bravado that was typical of the new and not so improved Scorpius Malfoy, and my anger flared again.

'What I don't get is... why bother? All your friends think it's cool that your dad was a Death Eater, so why do you feel the need to read everything you can lay your hands on about stuff that happened before you were born? Unless, y'know, you're swatting up to become some dark wizard.'

Malfoy jerked his head like I'd slapped him. The look on his face told me that I may as well have, and I tried to ignore the guilty feeling that bubbled in the pit of my stomach. Sure, I hated Malfoy, but that didn't mean I didn't feel sorry for him sometimes.

'I need to know.' I hadn't expected an answer, so I was shocked when his voice interrupted my guilt trip, low and rough. 'If people are talking about your family everywhere you go, you need to know why, don't you?'

'But you know why now,' I reminded him.

'I know, but I don't understand.'

In all my years of knowing Malfoy, I had never once heard him utter those last three words. _I don't understand..._ Annoyingly, in all the time I've known him, I'd never come across a single thing that he didn't understand. He knew how to do all of his subjects, passing them with flying colours, the only student's grades to rival mine. He knew how to charm teachers, get into the cellar at Honeydukes, smuggle Firewhisky into the Prefect's common room without getting caught, and get a new girlfriend every week. It was more than frustrating. Anything I could do... Malfoy did it better.

'What is there to understand?' I asked, more sharply than I'd intended.

'You know what makes me so angry I could puke?' he growled suddenly. I shook my head, mystified. 'The fact that you sit there like little miss holier-than-thou, and you don't have a clue. There've been plenty of books written about the Weasley family, all exalting your stupid name, saying how amazing you all are. The Weasleys save the day. And then there's your uncle, Saint Harry bloody Potter. Wherever you go, the worst that happens is your parents get asked for their autographs! You don't know what it's like... and you sit there and act like the authority on everything!' Malfoy finished his little speech by slamming his hand down on the leather binding of his book, breathing hard as though he'd been running. His eyes bored into me like Teflon-coated steel.

'I don't know what _what_ is like?' I retorted.

'Being an outcast!' The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. I laughed humourlessly.

'An outcast? Malfoy, you are not an outcast! You – though I can't for the life of me see why – are one of the most popular people in our entire year! Our entire school, even!'

'And do you know how hard I had to try? You walked in and everyone wanted to be your friend, but me... I had to work so damn hard to get people to even talk to me!'

'That's a lie!' I spat.

'How is it?' he hissed back. 'When I started school I had _nobody_!'

'You had me!' I cried. 'Me and Al! I was always there; I tried so hard to be your friend! You may spit "Weasley" at me like it's a curse, but I was "Rosie" once upon a time!'

Malfoy, for once, was completely speechless, but I wasn't about to stop now. Not when there were four and a half years worth of repressed feelings to scream at him.

'And then you had to go and start trying to impress your stupid grandfather that you hate so much, and you made friends with Nott and Sophie Avery and Goyle and all those horrible people, and still, I tried really hard to be your friend! I wanted to stay your friend the _whole_ time! But then your other friends started being vicious and vile and cruel, and I sat there taking every insult they dished out, waiting for you to jump in and defend me! But you _didn't_, and that was it for me. I stopped waiting for you to save me and decided to save myself, _Scorpius_!'

Still, Malfoy said nothing. There was a strong possibility that he had lost the ability to speak.

'And then, even when you were being mean, even when you were just like them, I thought that it was just for show, that you didn't mean it, not really, and so I let it go. I still _cared_. You remember in third year, when that bludger hit you over the head in that game against Gryffindor? I came up to the hospital wing every single day while you were unconscious! And where were your Slytherin friends then, Malfoy, eh? It was me; I was the one who stayed with you to make sure you were alright, not them! And we were friends! Even then, when you and Al wouldn't speak! And then in fourth year, outside Potions, just before the Yule Ball...' I stopped there as guilt flashed across his features. He remembered that day as well as I did.

'I was stupid enough to think that, maybe deep down, you didn't mean that either. I was so close to forgiving you when you came to apologise at the Yule Ball, so close... but then, when I saw... And that is when I decided you weren't worth the effort. Not when I found out your last name, and not when I realised that your father was one of my dad's greatest enemies, and not when I knew Voldemort had lived in your house. The only thing that made me hate you was you.' I sat in enraged silence for a moment, before I began to regret my outburst. A blush crept up my neck and cheeks.

To my intense surprise, Malfoy smiled. Not a genuine I'm-so-sorry-for-how-I-treated-you smile, but that mocking, teasing smile I detested so much. His eyes were colder and more metallic than ever.

'Well, thanks for that, Weasley, that was enlightening,' he said, and returned to his book like nothing had happened. I was too furious, too embarrassed to say anything further, and resorted to staring morosely out of the window for the rest of the journey.

A year with Scorpius Malfoy was going to be my personal hell on Earth. I tried to fight the tears of injustice that were welling up in my eyes, but I couldn't escape one tear trickling down my cheek, leaving a warm, wet and very visible track. I couldn't brush it away without Malfoy noticing, so I left it there to drip off my jaw.

Once or twice, I felt him watching me, but every time I glanced over, he looked just as absorbed in his book as before. Maybe not, then.

I hated him with a vengeance, but it had taken me all this time to realise that I still cared about what he thought of me. That I still felt horrible about his heritage.

That I still had any sort of feelings for him at all.


	3. Disarmed and On My Guard

I hate Rose Weasley for what she does to me.

As we were walking up to the new Head dormitories, I tried to ignore her. I tried to pretend that she didn't exist; I tried to hate her with a vengeance.

And I failed, just like always.

How can you hate someone when all you can feel is sickening, gut-wrenching guilt about how you treated them? How can you hate someone when all you can do is torture yourself over how you made them cry with a few well chosen words?

That really stung, and I loathed the fact that it affected me. Life would be so much simpler if I didn't care for Rose at all. If I really wished her some sort of bodily harm. I thought she had decided to embrace the enmity that Slytherins and Gryffindors shared at last, and that's why she stopped being my friend. That made her a lot easier to hate. But it wasn't true, and I couldn't kid myself.

It was me.

All me.

It was my constant inability to grow a spine that meant she was subjected to verbal abuse every day she was friends with me. It was me turning my back on her as my so called friends bullied her. And it wasn't just my friends... it was my own cruel words that had driven her away.

Her expression that day... I'd thought she was just offended by the comparison to a troll. I'd thought she'd forgive me and make an allowance. Boys and their jokes, and all that. But I'd broken her. I'd been mean and selfish and heartless, and the worst part was that she'd believed every word I'd said. I told her I didn't mean it... but she took it as gospel truth, just like she had when we were eleven and I'd told her that gnomes could fly, and bowtruckles made good pancakes. I'd laughed at how gullible she was then, Albus and I together. It didn't seem so funny anymore.

How could she have believed me? How could she seriously think I thought she was ugly? Rose was many things; headstrong, opinionated, a bit of a know it all, sometimes tactless and completely oblivious to her own worth, but she was never, and could never be, ugly. Her big sapphire eyes that you just got lost in, her fiery curls that cascaded down her back when she didn't have them in that uptight ponytail she always wore, the way her nose wrinkled when she was annoyed and made her light dusting of freckles stand out, the way her lower lip pushed out when she pouted...

She was the most beautiful girl in our year, as much as it pained me to admit it. She always had been.

And I still couldn't help but wish that she was my best friend again. And I still thought about her every sodding second. And I was still as hopelessly in love with her at seventeen as I had been at twelve.

I hated her for making me love her. But I hated myself for making her hate me more.

She stopped walking abruptly as she reached the portrait that concealed the entrance to our new living accommodation, and I had to brace my hand against the wall to stop myself walking straight into the back of her.

'Merlin, Weasley, warn people before you decide to stop walking. I nearly had to touch you!' I was very good at this game. I'd had years of practice. Keep your guard up and don't let her have any idea how you really feel about her. Taunt and mock and ridicule and make sure she won't ever know the truth. Rule number one, in short; _lie_.

I was a damn good liar.

She turned to me with a look of deepest loathing. I nearly recoiled from the intensity of it, but I stopped myself in time. Rule number two in the Malfoy school of acting: do not let her know how much she gets to you. Suck it up.

'You know, Malfoy, I'm glad you have good reflexes. Any contact with you and I would've been forced to bring up my lunch,' she replied coolly.

A good comeback. She'd learnt to perfect them over the years.

'What's the password?' I merely asked, gesturing towards the portrait.

'Er... I'm not sure,' Rose chewed her lip thoughtfully. I tried not to find that distracting, and failed, once again. Not that she was aware of that.

The portrait, a picture of two wizards brewing some sort of potion together over a golden cauldron, was evidently where we needed to be, but McGonagall hadn't mentioned a password to either of us.

'How about... Hogwarts?' she asked the portrait hopefully. I rolled my eyes as one of the wizards, who had a pointed black beard and a gold tooth, replied 'Guess again, dear.'

'Why don't you just tell us?' I proposed logically.

'No, I couldn't do that. I'm afraid you're going to have to guess. It's part of the rules.'

Rose ground her teeth in frustration.

We sat there for half an hour, bored out of our skulls and disagreeing on everything and anything, no matter how trivial. A few times, I swore that Rose was deliberately playing devil's advocate just to annoy me. I'm sure she realised I was doing the same thing.

'This is ridiculous!' I groaned after the seventy-eighth password we tried (Hungarian horntail) didn't work.

'For once, Malfoy, I agree with you,' Rose sighed.

'Well done, now you may choose your password!' The other wizard in the portrait – a thin, lizard-like man – piped up.

'What?' we chorused, confused.

'You managed to co-operate, which was what you had to do in order for us to let you set a password,' the bearded wizard explained.

'Oh... erm, okay, password?' Rose turned to me expectantly.

'Snitch,' I said firmly.

'Whatever, I'm too tired to argue,' Rose replied.

'Password is set, sir and miss.' The lizard-y wizard bowed and the portrait swung forwards to admit us. Rose climbed through, and I raised a hand unthinkingly to help her. Nobody could say that Malfoys didn't have manners.

She just gave my hand a dirty look and brushed past me. I sighed.

'I was only trying to be polite, Weasley.' This was the longest I had spent in her company since we were much younger, and I was relishing it. Not that she was aware. Even her venomous looks and her barbed comments were welcome. At least she was there to hate me. At least I could talk to her. I didn't care if she was shouting, just as long as I heard the sound of her voice. I briefly wondered when I had gotten so pathetic.

I could peg it to one day in late September 2017.

_I had been sitting under our tree; mine, Rosie's and Al's, with the Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 open in my lap, trying to learn how to do a disarming spell. I heard footsteps beside me, and I glanced up to see a smiling Rose standing over me, a heavy textbook in her hands and a wide smile on her pretty face. She had worn her hair in plaits then, and little curls poked out every so often. _

_'Expelliarmus!' I cried, pointing my wand at her, and Rose's book flew out of her grip. She looked completely astonished._

_'How did you do that?' she asked, throwing herself down onto the grass beside me, her book lying a few feet away, forgotten. _

_'I've been practising. I'm getting quite good,' I admitted truthfully._

_'We haven't even been taught that yet!' she protested weakly. I smiled at her. _

_'I don't want to look stupid if I can't do it when we get taught,' I replied with what I thought was infallible logic back then._

_'But that's why we get taught, silly. It's okay to make mistakes, Scorp.' _

_'But what if I couldn't do it, Rosie?' I shot back. She shrugged nonchalantly. _

_'You'd learn eventually.' I remember, even then, being completely taken in by her deep blue eyes. They were hypnotising._

_'I want to be smart,' I confessed, feeling my cheeks flush a little._

_'But you are smart, Scorp. You're really smart. You might even be smarter than me, though I'm not going to tell anyone.' I laughed as she said this, and then felt a swooping sensation in my stomach as she patted my knee. _

_I watched her shoulders rise and fall in a sigh._

_'Rosie, what's wrong?' I asked immediately. _

_'Nothing, it's just... Flora Montague was teasing me today.' Rose's cheeks burned with her humiliation at admitting weakness. She always hated to be weak. I think that was something she got from her Aunt Ginny, the way she and Al described her._

_'What did she say?' I asked gently, not really thinking about it as I leaned forward to brush a loose piece of her hair away from her eyes. My fingers tingled as I touched her skin, and her eyes widened a little. _

_'It's stupid.'_

_'Tell me anyway.'_

_'You'll laugh.'_

_'I won't.' _

_She measured me for a moment to make sure that I was serious before continuing. _

_'She said that I'll never have a boyfriend because nobody will ever fancy me or love me, and nobody would ever want to kiss me,' she blurted out, super-fast._

_'Why wouldn't anyone ever love you?' I frowned in confusion._

_'Because I'm ginger, so she says.' I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing. It was just so ridiculous._

_'I told you you'd laugh!' she exclaimed angrily. I could hear her mumbling all sorts of dire threats under her breath, all involving my painful death – and it made me laugh harder. She was so funny sometimes._

_'I'm sorry Rosie, but it's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. What's wrong with being ginger?'_

_'That's what I said.'_

_'And what did she say?' I asked, still holding back my laughter. _

_'She didn't have an answer.' _

_'Well then, there you go. I can't believe that bothered you.' It really did surprise me that Rose would be bothered by anything Flora Montague said._

_'It's because I'm always worried about that.'_

_'What, about Flora? Rosie, she's just jealous because you're prettier than her,' I replied._

_'No, not about her about – really?' she turned to me with a hopeful expression._

_'What?' I asked, puzzled._

_'Do you really think I'm prettier than Flora?' she checked._

_'Definitely,' I assured her, and I meant every syllable. Rose was so blind. She was prettier than everyone. She made my stomach do back flips. 'But what do you worry about?'_

_'Well, the idea of nobody ever wanting to kiss me. Or nobody ever falling in love with me.' She blushed a deep crimson as she said it. _

_'That's ridiculous, Rosie,' I scoffed. Who wouldn't love Rose, really?_

_'But I still worry.'_

_'But you shouldn't. She's being mean and it's not true,' I argued._

_'But nobody has ever kissed me before,' she answered quietly._

_I don't know where the surge of bravery came from, but somehow I managed to find the courage in that moment to lean over to Rose and kiss her, full on the lips. It surprised the hell out of me, I remember, that her lips were so soft. I'd expected them to be all rough, but they were smooth and soft and warm. She tasted like strawberries. My heartbeat began to go strangely hiccup-y in my chest, pinging around like it was on elastic. And then I'd pulled away and grinned at her, feeling more confident than I ever had before. There was a new feeling too, one I wasn't really sure about._

_'Okay, well that's not true anymore,' I whispered, smiling widely._

_Rose looked slightly dazed, like someone had just hit her over the head. Her eyes were like saucers, wider and bluer than I had ever seen them before. They glittered in the sunlight._

_'You... kissed me,' she whispered incredulously._

_'Uh-huh,' I said, fighting to keep the smug grin off my face. I kissed her! I kissed Rose!_

_She brought her shaky fingers up to her lips and touched them softly._

_'Wow...' she breathed, and then proceeded to turn bright pink. _

_In that second, I realised what the feeling was. I hadn't ever felt it before, but I knew what it was instinctively. _

_Rose Weasley didn't have to worry about nobody falling in love with her anymore, because someone already was._

_Me._

As soon as the portrait hole swung shut behind us, the tension and awkwardness in the air was palpable. I noticed that the common room we shared was small and intimate, a couple of bookshelves, a notice board, one sofa and two armchairs. An empty grate with a handsome mantelpiece faced these seats, and there was a rectangular coffee table in the middle of the room. On one side was a door with a green hanging over the entrance. On the other, a red hanging. There was a doorway between the two, the bathroom no doubt.

Rose took one look at me and marched over to the red door. She threw it open and darted through without a backwards glance, slamming the door behind her. I just smiled to myself and settled into one of the armchairs. Living with Rose was going to be fun.

Then I thought of her tear tracks glistening on her face as she stared out of the window on the Hogwarts Express, and the smile slid off my face.

This Malfoy didn't have as many manners as he thought.


	4. Realisations

The prefects and the head had to have breakfast together on the first day of term, it was a tradition.

Rose was sitting opposite me, unwilling to look me in the eyes and determinedly picking at a piece of bacon she seemed unlikely to ever eat. I opened my mouth to remind her that she was a vegetarian, and she shouldn't really be eating bacon in the first place, but shut it again instantly. I was supposed to neither know nor care about her eating habits.

She sighed and threw her fork down, her expression a confusing mixture of several emotions. I turned to look at something else, anything else except Rose, not when she already polluted my every thought. I didn't need to be looking at her to see her face.

My eyes fell instead on Sophie Avery, my fellow seventh year Slytherin. Sophie was, I realised with a note of surprise, staring at me intently. She was a pretty girl, long dark hair and almost amber coloured eyes, and she was reasonably intelligent, witty and nice, but she was no Rose Weasley, and I couldn't pretend she was. Nobody could ever measure up in my mind, not to Rose.

I'd had plenty of girlfriends, but none of them serious, and none of them that I had any real feeling for. They were stopgaps, attempts to delude myself that I didn't give a damn about Rose, though nothing could be farther from the truth.

Lily Potter was sitting beside Rose, I noticed, and murmuring something in her ear. I saw Rose's blue eyes flash up to meet mine, and her mouth opened slightly. She looked like she'd been obliviated. The moment was over as soon as it came though, and her vacant look morphed into a basilisk glare.

'If looks could kill, eh, Weasley?' I chuckled, pretending that her glares weren't uncomfortable. Rule No. 1: lie. That was going to be a huge feature for me this year, I just knew it.

'Then I would be in Azkaban for murder, wouldn't I Malfoy?' she replied without skipping a beat. I fought back a laugh.

'I wouldn't know, would I? I'd be six feet under,' I said, taking a dignified sip of my pumpkin juice.

'Damn right. You'd be first on my hit list.' More threats of bodily harm. They were music to my ears. I even let out a reluctant chuckle. 'Although, I'd prefer to choke you to death. It's more satisfying, you see.'

I smirked at her, and I saw her nose wrinkle. 'I'd love to see you try.'

'Really? Well, that sounds like permission to me!' She actually went as far as to push her chair all the way back, still sitting though. Everyone was exchanging amused grins at our bickering.

'Although, that does surprise me... surely you wouldn't want the half-blood daughter of mudblood Hermione Granger to contaminate your skin, even if you were going to die?'

Her words knocked the breath right out of me. I had no idea I had been that vicious in the past, and her comment was a painful reminder of the time, way back in fifth year, when I had called her mother a... that word. I couldn't say that word anymore, after seeing the hurt that flashed across her face and pierced right through my heart. I hadn't thought she'd be the type to use it against me, and I really wasn't expecting it.

It hurt to know what she really thought of me. An elitist bastard with the same incurable affliction of obsession with blood status that ailed my grandfather. I instantly lost my appetite.

Unable to wrestle with my conscience, I felt the urge to run away.

'Wow, Weasley. You really know how to wind a guy. Congratulations, I have no comeback,' my voice was completely cold and robotic as I spoke, trying desperately not to show her how hard that hit me. I stood up quickly.

'If you'll all excuse me, I think I've had enough aspersions cast on my character for one morning.'

Trying my damnedest to look anywhere but at Rose, I made a hasty exit, and was halfway down the hall before Sophie's cry of 'Scorpius!' reached my ears.

-

'Malfoy is staring at you, Rosie,' Lily whispered in my ear as I gazed off into space. I flinched at his name, and my eyes darted to where he sat of their own accord. Sure enough, his mercury eyes were trained on my face, and what I could see in them was a burning, smouldering curiosity, like he was trying to x-ray my mind.

I was captivated by his gaze. It was stupid, and I had been desperately trying not to look at him since my outburst on the train, I had been trying to avoid everything to do with him. But trying to rid my thoughts of Malfoy was like trying to empty the water out of a sinking boat with your hands. For each little bit you got rid of, there was gallons more to take its place.

I didn't like the way he made my hands clam up. I didn't like the way he made me nervous. I especially didn't like the fact that when he looked at me, or smiled, my heart skipped a beat. I hated that I found him attractive, even when I would have liked nothing better than to put his head on a spike and displayed it as an exhibit in the Gryffindor tower.

I recovered myself as best I could, pulling myself away from his fathomless eyes and his too handsome face and glaring at him with as much venom as I could muster.

'If looks could kill, eh, Weasley?' he laughed at my expression.

'Then I'd be in Azkaban for murder, wouldn't I Malfoy?' I replied quickly.

'I wouldn't know, would I? I'd be six feet under,' he said lightly, taking a sip of pumpkin juice.

'Damn right. You'd be first on my hit list.'

He laughed again. I realised everyone was staring at us, and a blush crept up my cheeks.

'Although,' I continued hotly, 'I'd prefer to choke you to death. It would be more satisfying, you see.'

Malfoy smirked. 'I'd love to see you try.'

'Really? Well, that sounds like permission to me!' I said in mock cheeriness, pushing back my chair. 'Although, that does surprise me... surely you wouldn't want the half-blood daughter of mudblood Hermione Granger to contaminate your skin, even if you were going to die?'

The silence was deafening as everyone turned to Malfoy to see what he would say next. I couldn't look at him. I don't know what made me say it, but I wanted to take it back. I didn't want to be petty, and I certainly didn't want to give him ammunition to insult me.

'Wow, Weasley,' Malfoy said quietly. 'You really know how to wind a guy. Congratulations, I have no comeback.' The bitterness of his tone shot straight through me like an arrow. He was hurt by my words. And I was hurting because he was hurting. That wasn't supposed to _be_. Not anymore. 'If you'll all excuse me,' he drew himself up to his considerable height hurriedly, though with enviable grace. 'I think I've had enough aspersions cast on my character for one morning.'

And with that parting note, he swept from the room.

'Scorpius!' Sophie Avery shouted after him, but he didn't turn around.

I sighed and pulled back my own chair. With a heavy heart, I knew I had to go after him.

'You can all leave,' I said glumly.

'Don't follow him!' Sophie snarled in my direction. 'He doesn't need you making things worse.'

I ignored her. Usually, that was exactly what he needed. I just hoped this was one of those times.

I found him in an empty classroom, twirling his wand through his fingers to produce showers of red sparks that glowed against his pale skin. He didn't notice me enter, absorbed in his own thoughts as he was, but he realised I was there when I pushed the door shut.

His gaze flashed up to meet mine, and I was reeled back a step at the emotions in his silvery eyes. He looked... lost. Completely and utterly lost.

In that heartbeat, I knew that I'd been kidding myself. The almost-man sitting in front of me was still the same ashamed eleven year old that I'd sat with on the Hogwarts Express, right down to the defensive posture. His good looks and easy humour had won him friends, and respect, and even the head boy's badge, but his shame hadn't gone away.

I had vilified him, turned him into some heartless monster, told myself that the Scorpius I cared about was gone, that _my_ Scorpius was dead, and in his place was only Malfoy. Malfoy, evil and cruel and mocking.

But he was still the same Scorpius, under all those layers of bravado and rudeness. He was still Scorpius that had shouted at James for putting toadspawn in my trainers, the Scorpius who had beaten me at Wizard chess 86 times in a row, the Scorpius who had given me his Potions homework and told me to hand it in as my own because I had forgotten to do it and cried – he had been shouted at for half an hour by Professor Arandale, and he hadn't said a word.

He was still my best friend really. Deep down, he was still the first boy I ever kissed.

'I didn't mean it,' I begged him, the apology in my voice very evident.

'Yes, you did. And I deserved it. I never apologised, did I? I never said I was sorry for calling your mother a mudblood,' he answered quietly, addressing his knees.

'Scorpius...' I began. His head snapped up, no doubt in shock that I'd addressed him by his first name. 'What happened to us? When did we get this way? We used to be so... you were my best friend. That sort of stuff doesn't just go away.'

'Remember when I was arguing with Albus, and you asked me that? I told you that we'd grown up. Truth is... I've never been so immature. I don't have a clue who I'm supposed to be anymore, Rose.' The desperation in his voice made me feel like I was about to cry. I choked it back though.

'You aren't your father, Scorpius, and you sure as hell aren't your grandfather. So... don't be them. Don't act like them.' I walked towards him and slid onto the table he was sitting on, close enough that our shoulders touched.

'Why not? It's what everyone expects,' he said bitterly.

'Because you're better than that. The Scorpius Malfoy I knew was above gossip.'

'Yeah? Well, the Rose Weasley I knew was never one to apologise,' he replied, a slight smile on his face. 'Especially when she was in the wrong.'

'I'm an improved model of the old Rose,' I explained, smiling a little myself.

'I wish I could say the same thing,' Scorpius sighed.

'Do you know what I hate about you?' I said abruptly, the realisation clicking.

'You're a real "kick them when they're down" type, hmm?' he half-laughed.

'It's the fact that you assume you're only worth as much as your name. And I guess I've been guilty of it too. "Scorpius" and "Malfoy" are two different people to me, and I know which one I like.' My heart was racing with the tone of our conversation. A real, honest-to-goodness conversation about our feelings.

His grey eyes found my blue ones, and they froze me in place. It was only then that I realised how close he really was to me. His lips were mere inches away... I could still remember vividly how they tasted...

'Do you know what I hate about you?' he murmured, and I braced myself.

'No, what?' I asked resignedly.

'Nothing,' he whispered, and my breath caught. A millisecond later, I had no idea how it happened, but his lips were on mine, just as soft as I remembered. All the animosity between us crumbled in that second, as his mouth slowly opened mine. I didn't even dream of resisting as he kissed me, couldn't even imagine pulling away. I just let his lips move against mine, our tongues dancing together, and allowed myself to forget. I'd kissed him before, but not like this, and it was almost too intense to be real. My arms were around his neck, my fingers twined in his silky hair, and he had one hand on my hip, the other pressing against the small of my back, pulling me to him...

The last few years were meaningless. It was like they'd never existed for me, and the kiss was so easy, so natural... like we were continuing a conversation we'd been having all along.

He pulled away reluctantly, both of us gasping for breath. I had no idea what to say to him, how to explain my actions. I wanted to rationalise it, but I couldn't.

There was nothing rational about love. I managed to admit to myself what I'd been denying for the past... ever. Why every taunt tore at my heart, why every gaze made it stutter, why I couldn't breathe whenever I thought about him, and why I was so angry for so long, so betrayed, so hurt.

I was in love with Scorpius Malfoy, and I'd only realised yesterday, on the train in the Head's carriage. Don't let him get to you, Albus had warned me last year... but it was too late. He had already gotten to me, taken my heart right out of my chest and proceeded to trample up and down on it again and again, and not once did I think to go and get it back from him...

'I... have to go...' I murmured, sliding off the desk and practically running for the door.

I couldn't look at Scorpius as I left. I just couldn't.

That kiss was the biggest mistake I had ever made.

So why couldn't I bring myself to regret it?


	5. The Inconvenient Truth

The first three months of school dragged past, and it was as if I was living by myself.

Rose Weasley had completely vanished. I mean, technically I would glance across the room and see her there, but her mind was so elsewhere I may as well have been sharing my dorms with a zombie. She wouldn't speak to me. She had yet to acknowledge my presence since she stormed out of that classroom on the first day of term.

I'd expected that a heart to heart with Rose would clear the air a bit, which it seemed to, at least until I made the stupid mistake of leaning over and kissing her. And she kissed me back, I swear she did... or at least, it felt that way. Only now, I knew where I stood with her even less than when I thought she hated me.

My own friends were finding me a complete misery to be around, what with my constant brooding and surly behaviour. I had taken to sitting in the Slytherin common room again, much to the initial delight of everyone, Sophie especially, but after days of being silent and unresponsive, I was less than welcome. I seemed to literally suck the fun out of the air around me, and the worst part was that I didn't tell them why.

It was breakfast in the Great Hall the day before the Christmas holidays before anything changed in the slightest.

A heavy textbook slammed onto the Slytherin table an inch from my nose, and I jumped. Glancing up, I saw a very irritated Sophie and a subdued Ferdinand standing over me. I nodded glumly in greeting.

'Okay, that's it, Scor! I have had enough of your moping!' Sophie threw herself down into the chair beside me, her scowl so deep it looked permanent.

'I'm not moping,' I denied pathetically. It was obvious to everyone that I was moping.

'I'm not saying the brooding, wounded look doesn't suit you, but you are seriously depressing everyone around you and it's getting on my nerves.' One thing I loved about Sophie – she didn't beat around the bush.

'What's even wrong?' Ferdinand asked in his slow drawl, dropping into the chair on my other side.

I allowed myself a smirk. 'You wouldn't believe me if I told you.' I took a swig of pumpkin juice in dignified silence.

'It's about Weasley, isn't it?' Sophie asked insightfully.

I coughed, and pumpkin juice sprayed out of my nose, drenching everyone around me. Some snotty little fourth year shot me a glare, which I returned in earnest, wiping my nose.

'What about Weasley?' I hedged, feeling nervous.

'She must've done something to royally piss you off... I can't believe it was just what she said at the prefects' breakfast, so it must have been really bad, because you've been quietly seething over something and you won't stop staring at her.'

I opened my mouth to tell her that I wasn't staring at Rose, nor did I ever, when I realised I wasn't even looking in Sophie's direction, but rather, scanning the Gryffindor table to see if she was there. To my disappointment, she wasn't.

'Scor? Are you with me? Hello?' Sophie waved a hand in front of my eyes, and I flinched.

'Sorry, uh, yeah. I promise to cheer up. I've got to go...' I stood up and began to walk swiftly in the direction of the entrance hall without a backwards glance, though I heard Sophie's indignant exclamation.

I had to find Rose. I wasn't sure whether I was going to yell at her or not, and I wasn't sure whether, if I did, she would yell back or completely ignore me. I supposed I'd find out soon enough.

I checked the library, but she wasn't there. That was unusual in itself – Rose rarely spent time away from the library, it was her sanctuary. Like the Quidditch pitch was mine. I flew to lose my troubles; she just had to bury her nose in a book.

I turned the corner on the way to our seventh floor dormitory, and stopped dead.

There was someone sitting outside the portrait, but it wasn't Rose.

It was Albus.

I was going to attempt to walk past him, ignoring him completely, but as I got closer I got the distinct impression that he wasn't waiting for his cousin.

He was waiting for me.

He seized my wrist to stop me slipping past him and held on with a vice-like grip.

'Malfoy...' he accused. He hadn't said anything yet, but whatever was annoying him, it was clear that he blamed me. He rose from the floor to his full height, which was barely an inch shorter than my own, and glared at me full in the face with his brightly green, furious eyes.

I feigned nonchalance.

'Can I help you, Potter?' I asked coolly.

'What have you done to my cousin?' he barked, and I reeled back a step. How did he know I had done anything?

'What do you mean?'

'I'm not sure myself. Rose doesn't eat, she barely talks, all she does is sit and wallow in misery, and I have no idea why. But the thing is, I have this feeling that you _do_ know.'

'So Weasley is unhappy, and of course, you just assume it's me?!' I protested indignantly, not denying his accusation outright. I wasn't going to lie, but I didn't want to tell the truth either. For starters, I don't think he'd believe me. I barely believed it myself.

'Whenever Rose stops eating and talking, it's always got something to do with you! Although the last time that happened was when she was still under the delusion that you were a nice person and that you two were friends. I woke up and smelled the amortentia long before Rosie did in that respect. So if this is about you, and believe me, I'll find out soon enough, I just want you to take this on board. Rosie is one of the best people in the entire world, and whatever sort of mess you are; I know you know that really. So don't do it to her again, Malfoy. I don't think she's strong enough to take it.' Albus continued to glare at me, but now I was confused.

'Don't do what to her again, Potter?' I replied, frowning.

'Break her heart.'

My jaw dropped.

'What do you mean? I haven't ever broken her heart! And even if I did, what makes you think I would have the opportunity to break it again? And what makes you think she even cares? Potter, she hates me!' My insistence was as much for my benefit as his.

The look he gave me was actually pitying. 'Don't ask me why, Malfoy, but we both know Rosie has never, nor will ever hate you. She cried herself to sleep over you in fourth year, and I don't want her to go through that again. I won't _let_ her go through that again. Am I making myself clear?'

He was making himself crystal clear. Things had never been clearer.

'Why?' I whispered, cleared my throat and tried again. 'Why do you think she's in any danger of crying herself to sleep over me?'

'I've seen the way she's been looking at you. She's still in love with you, much as I hate to admit...'

'Whoa, back up!' I held my hands up to cut off his speech. 'Rose is _still in love_ with _me_?'

'Yeah. And if you tell her I told you this, or if you hurt her in any way, I'll make your death look like a painful Quidditch accident. That's a promise. If there is even a shred of the old Scorpius, the one I used to be friends with, left inside you, just do everyone a favour and leave her alone, before you break her beyond repair.'

I could barely believe my ears, but I nodded like a puppet, my eyes wide.

'Good. Glad we had this little chat.' And with that, Albus released my arm and marched away down the corridor, leaving me completely gobsmacked.

I muttered the password to the portrait of the old wizards and ducked through into the common room I shared with Rose.

My breath caught in panic as I noticed her sitting on the sofa, staring into the depths of a crackling fire. She looked a little thin, and too pale. Had she really been avoiding food that much? I felt a stab of guilt. She glanced in my direction with shiny eyes before quickly returning her gaze to her lap. But Albus's little declaration had changed things. I wasn't going to let her avoid me any longer.

'Rose, talk to me.' It was a command, and I was surprised by how forceful it sounded.

'I...' she sucked in a breath. 'I don't want to talk.'

But damn, it felt good to hear her voice, even if she did sound like she had a bad head cold.

'You haven't shouted at me in weeks, life is almost peaceful,' I joked, but I don't think she was in the mood. She just gave me a disparaging look. I had missed that, too.

'What do you want from me, Scorpius?' she muttered, still staring at the fire.

'Admit it...' I whispered, surprised by my request. 'Admit that you don't hate me.'

'I don't hate you, Scor. But does it matter?' her quiet voice was so sad, but at the same time, flat.

'Yes, it matters! It matters to me! You have no idea, Rosie...' I sighed. 'Years, I've spent, trying to figure out why I had pushed you away like that, and regretting the fact that you hated me. And all the time, you didn't hate me at all. So it matters.'

'Why? It's not like I matter to you!' she exclaimed, her voice croaking.

'Are you crazy or just plain stupid?' I demanded, getting angry.

'Don't call me stupid!'

'I bloody kissed you didn't I? And you think you don't _mean anything_ to me?'

'It was just a kiss, and that doesn't mean anything to you, does it? Not to Scorpius Malfoy, Hogwarts' Casanova!' Bright red spots had appeared on her cheeks, and she was glaring ferociously at me.

'I've just told you that it did.' My response was surprisingly quiet after her yelling, but I knew she heard me. She had stopped breathing.

'I don't believe you!' she responded.

'Of course you don't. Why would Rose Weasley believe me about anything anymore? You know, for someone so smart, you really are clueless. I was in love with you when I was twelve and I still am now!'

The silence was deafening, and I fought the urge to clap my hand over my mouth. She just stared at me like I had sprouted an extra head. I wished I hadn't let it slip out, but I wouldn't take it back either. I'd waited long enough for her to hear it.

'You don't mean that.'

'I bloody do!' She flinched when I shouted at her.

'Then why the hell have you made my life a misery for the last three four years, Scor? You called me a troll, you...'

'And you think I meant that? Merlin, Rose, are you blind? You are the most beautiful thing ever, and you don't even realise...'

She was crying again. I could see the tears rolling down her cheeks, dripping into her slightly open mouth. Her blue eyes glistened up at me, all her anger melted away.

'I've always loved you. Always.'

Her words made me feel like I could fly off the astronomy tower if I wanted to. I couldn't believe she'd told me that. I closed the distance between us in three strides, sinking onto the sofa beside her and reaching my hand across to wipe the tears from her cheeks. She allowed the contact, but there was something wrong in her expression. Something that gave me the chills.

'Rosie?' I asked, concerned.

'Scor...' she pushed my hand away gently. 'I do love you. A lot. But... I can't trust you.'

My hand fell to my side, completely useless.

'You can,' I insisted.

Her eyes were hard and closed off. 'I won't anymore, not after... everything. I can't let you hurt me again.'

She was telling me what Albus had already said, but she didn't need to worry, she didn't get it.

'I won't ever hurt you, Rosie. You have to believe me.' I begged her with my eyes, but the guard was still up over her expression.

'That's the problem. I don't.' And she pulled her hand out of my grasp, making her way over to her bedroom door and disappearing through it, leaving me staring open-mouthed after her.

She was gone, but not before I caught the agony in her sapphire eyes.


	6. An Unexpected Owl

'Would miss Rose care for some more onion soup?' Kreacher's throaty croak sounded from my left elbow as I sat in Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny's kitchen. I glanced down at the sweet old elf, who was preoccupied with a spot of soup that had dropped onto his fluffy white towel.

'No thanks, Kreacher. Why don't you sit down?' I gestured to the vacant chair beside me at the table.

'Thank you, but no, miss Rose. Master Albus's bed needs making.' And with that, Kreacher set the pot of soup back down on the burnished stove, and scuttled out of the room, muttering about how best to clean up "Master Albus's" sock drawer. I hid a smile.

Grimmauld Place was one of my favourite places in the world. It was always so warm and cosy, and Kreacher was the most polite, helpful little thing in the world. Plus, whenever we stayed at Uncle Harry's, it meant Al, James and Lily were under the same roof as us, which was always fun.

It was a shame that I was so preoccupied with my own problems to fully appreciate it at the moment. I tried to act normal, but I don't think anyone was fooled.

I glanced around the spotless, terracotta kitchen, thinking of stories that Dad had told me, from days when Grimmauld place was full of bad decor and dark objects. It couldn't be more different now – clean, bright and open.

I loved war stories. They fascinated me, what with my family's heroism, and all the stories of Teddy's parents, Sirius Black and duels with Voldemort. Dad told brilliant stories, but he was no match for Uncle Harry's tales about the pensieve, Dumbledore, the Triwizard Tournament and Cedric Diggory, Voldemort's childhood and Snape's love for his mother, Lily. I felt very sorry for Severus Snape, though I had never met him. A Slytherin boy who was in love with his best friend, a Gryffindor, and he was too afraid to tell her, too afraid to admit it to his family, his friends, and he drove her away, he lost her forever... If I were Lily Potter, I would have handled that so differently...

My spoon slipped between my fingers and landed in my bowl with a clatter.

I was mistaken. I would've handled it exactly the same way. I _did_ handle it the same way. I _was_ Lily Potter.

Severus Snape had met a sticky end because of the breakdown of their friendship.

My blood ran cold.

'Hey Rosie!' James sauntered into the kitchen, sporting magenta robes that said "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes" in gold embroidery on the front, and underneath that "James Potter" in the same stitching.

'Hi, James.' My voice sounded a little odd.

'Rosie, are you alright? You look a little... strange. You've gone a bit green. Has Kreacher put Tentacula venom in the onion soup or something?'

'Did Master James call Kreacher?' A croaky little voice piped up, and the elf in question reappeared in the doorway.

'Actually, no... but now that you're here, you wouldn't fancy giving me a bowl of soup too, would you, Kreacher?' James said as he collapsed into a chair opposite me.

'No, sir,' Kreacher replied instantly, bowing low and busying himself with a bowl and a ladle.

'Cheers,' James said when his soup was set down in front of him.

'Not at all, Master James...' Kreacher backed out of the room, no doubt to resume tidying Al's.

'Anyway, Rosie, what's wrong?' James asked cheerfully as he began spooning hot soup into his mouth.

'Nothing, 'M fine.' I shook my head at his quizzical expression.

'Lemme guess, it's a Victoire problem, right?' Victoire, my twenty-three year old cousin, was without a doubt the best listener in our entire family, and always gave the best advice, something nineteen year old James was never very good at.

'I don't have a problem, James,' I insisted.

'Riiight...' he replied, clearly not buying it for a second. 'But if you change your mind, Vic and Teddy are coming over tonight with the rest of the family. And apparently, Nan is baking a snitch cake again, like the one we had at Al's birthday.'

I smiled a little at that. Grandma Weasley was a wonderful baker.

'Rosie, James, what're you doing skulking down here?' A voice sounded from the doorway, and I turned to see my tall, gangly brother entering the room, and behind him, my tall, gangly father. I offered Hugo the remainder of my soup, which he took eagerly.

'Rosie's worrying about something, but she won't tell me,' James said casually, lolling back in his chair. I scowled at him.

'Shut up!' I snapped, feeling slightly irritable.

'Aw, c'mon Rosie Posie, tell us what's the matter,' Dad wheedled, taking a seat beside James. I grimaced and shook my head.

'I'm fine, really.' Dad did not need the heart attack that hearing Scorpius Malfoy's name was likely to cause. He had been completely fine with our friendship when we were little, even going as far as allowing him to stay with us over the summer at the end of first year, but ever since I abruptly stopped talking about him whenever I wrote, or else, blanched whenever his name was mentioned, he bullied Al into telling him everything. Now, if Scorpius's name is mentioned in my house, it is more often than not accompanied by a succession of expletives.

So the fact that I had confessed to him that I was in love with him, had told him I didn't trust him enough for us to ever be together, and was now moping about it would probably not go down too well.

'Well, if you ever need to talk...' Dad muttered, patting my hand. It was sweet of him, really, to care so much, but it didn't make me feel less miserable.

'Thanks, Dad. Is Aunt Ginny around? I need to ask her something.'

'She's upstairs, cleaning out the sitting room. Or trying to clean out the sitting room, Kreacher keeps pushing her onto the sofa and insisting that he does it. But she doesn't like to overwork him – he _is_ really old, after all,' Dad enlightened me, and then struck up a conversation with James about Uncle George's joke shop.

I slid off my chair and began to make my way upstairs, taking care not to wake up the portrait of Mrs Black, which, for all their efforts, Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny could not get down. That was the only painting in the house that they couldn't get rid of though.

I pushed open the door of the living room to see Aunt Ginny, her long red hair swept off her face in a messy ponytail, polishing the coffee table. She looked up as I entered, and her face broke out into a wicked grin that her children seemed to have inherited.

'Hey, Aunt Ginny,' I said in a subdued way, flopping onto the sofa. She straightened up and came to sit next to me, wiping sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand. It _was_ hot in the house, I'd noticed.

'Hey, Rosie. What's up?' Aunt Ginny was annoyingly perceptive at times, which is why I needed her. She was good at sussing out situations, not to mention the fact that she had never betrayed a secret, not to anyone.

'Aunt Ginny, I just... well, I can't seem to do anything right...'

'What're you talking about, little miss twelve 'Outstanding' O.? Of course you can, you do everything right!' She patted me gently on the shoulder.

'I don't mean academically... I mean...'

'Romantically?' she made a very good guess.

'Well, yeah,' I mumbled, blushing a little.

'Who's the lucky boy?' she asked, smiling a little. I shook my head and tucked one of my red curls behind my ear.

'I don't really want to talk about him in particular, but more about... look, promise you won't say a word?'

'Cross my heart,' she vowed solemnly.

'Okay... when did you know that you loved Uncle Harry?' I asked. She beamed, evidently reminiscing.

'Gosh... um... I think when I was twelve, actually, and he rescued me from the Chamber of Secrets... he was just so brave. A real hero, he was. Why?'

Twelve... that sounded familiar. 'So you think you can love someone from age twelve then?' I asked casually. Or at least, I attempted to ask casually.

'Sure. You can love someone from any age I suppose. Though you may not realise you're attracted to them...'

Well, I didn't realise I was attracted to Scorpius until he kissed me. The very first time, that is. Ever since then, I was blisteringly aware of how attractive he was, but I didn't think it was anything more than physical attraction, because I was convinced that I hated his guts. Evidently not.

'...but on the whole, it's fairly easy to guess.' I realised I hadn't been listening to a word she was saying.

'Oh, um, thanks,' I said lamely, and then got up to leave.

'Where're you going, honey?' she asked, concernedly.

'Um, for a lie down. I have a headache,' I lied, and excused myself.

When I reached the spare room, I got a slight surprise. The room was exactly the way I left it – freshly made bed, clothes folded, and books strewn over the desk, only now there was a snowy owl perched on top of my Standard Book of Spells, Grade 7.

'Hello, Augustus,' I whispered, and the owl hooted softly. I reached out one finger, and he hopped along the desk to nibble on the end of my finger. 'I haven't seen you in a while.'

I stroked his feathers gently with one hand, and loosened the package around his ankle with the other. It was small, but felt quite heavy. As soon as the note was detached, Augustus took off out the open window.

I sat on the edge of the bed and opened the package with trembling fingers.

_Rose,_

_I don't know if you want to hear from me, but I had to try and contact you. Augustus hasn't made a journey to your place or Albus's for such a long time, I hope he remembers the way. I'm really sorry if I've ruined your holiday – a part of me wishes I'd kept my mouth shut, but I'm glad you know how I feel. It's easier than lying all the time – I'm so tired of lying. I've lied to you, and to myself, and we wouldn't even be here if I'd had the guts to tell you the truth all along. Please open my present, and I hope you like it. It took me ages to think of something to give you, but I needed something that would help me win back your trust. Because, believe me, Rosie, even if it takes me until I'm two hundred, I WILL win back your trust. I'm not giving up on you, Rose, not now that I've realised there was anything to give up on. Have a great Christmas. I'll be thinking about you._

_Scorpius._

I opened the small, wrapped object, and something cold and metallic fell out onto my palm. I held it up to examine it properly, and realised, with a thrill of delight, that it was a snitch. I watched as its little wings unfurled themselves, fluttering feebly in my grip.

Another note was sticking out of the wrapping for the snitch.

_I promised you that I would catch my very first snitch for you, way back in third year. Then that Bludger hit me in the head when I was doing my lap of honour, and I was put into the hospital wing. I know you were there watching over me now, but I never made good on my promise. I kept the snitch though, hoping to give it to you, but then we stopped being friends, and I couldn't... now it's yours, like I said. Try not to let it fly away, because we both know you cannot fly to save your life, and you'll never catch it. Merry Christmas, Rosie._

A tear trickled down my cheek as I read the note.

He kept the first snitch he ever won for _me_.

I hastily wiped my eyes and stuffed the snitch under my pillow as my door opened. Al came bounding through, followed closely by Lorcan. Lysander and Lily. I hadn't realised that Luna was here, and the thought cheered me up. I loved her crazy antics.

'Hello, my beautiful cousin!' Al grinned, throwing himself onto my bed and bouncing around a bit. 'Are you excited? It's Christmas Eve!'

'Yeah, really excited!' I replied cheerily, forcing a smile. All I could think about was Scorpius. I hadn't gotten him a present... but of course I hadn't! We barely spoke to each other! But all the same...

'Rosie, are you okay? You have a face on you like a gnome trying to work out a riddle,' Lysander asked. I glared at him for making that comparison.

'You realise that Lysander Scamander is a rhyming name, don't you?' I shot back at him.

Al, Lily and Lorcan roared with laughter, and I felt cheered for a moment.

I even cracked a smile.


	7. A Father Knows Best

Christmas in the Malfoy household was usually a hell of a lot of fun, but not this year. No, this year, we weren't staying at home and roasting chestnuts, we wouldn't be ice fishing and Dad wouldn't be taking me and Lena sledging, no, this year my father insisted that we go up to the manor and spend the holidays with Grandfather and Grandma. The manor was grand, sure, but far too empty. There were only ever, at most, six people in Malfoy manor; my father, my mother, my sister Selena and my grandparents on my father's side; the latter two being the only actual full-time residents.

Lena was in a foul mood with me just before we went to sleep on Christmas Eve. She sulked for half an hour at the fact that I wouldn't play with her or teach her how to ride her new broomstick – since she'd turned ten, Dad had allowed her to slowly begin learning to fly, though Mum was still on edge about it. Selena was tiny and fragile looking for her age, like a little porcelain doll, but she was a lot tougher than she appeared and my mother was yet to work that out.

Grandfather made some snide comment as I walked past the drawing room about how surly I was becoming, and I almost heard my father's eyes roll. My Dad wasn't who he used to be – he had loosened up a lot since he was young, and was even – dare I say it – a lot of fun to be around.

Mostly that was my mother's doing though. She was like sunshine, warming our once frosty household with big smiles and friendly hugs. I loved her for that, but it wasn't enough to clear my head of my misery. Rose didn't trust me, and I only hoped the package I had sent her with Augustus had a good effect. I needed her trust.

I sighed and rolled over in my bed, grumbling incoherently about the overt grandness of my bedroom. I hated how ornate it was – it was like some medieval castle that muggles loved to visit but nobody with half a gram of sense would ever want to live in.

As was the routine every night, I lay awake for hours, obsessing over my every mistake in my friendship with Rose, wishing that I had done things differently. If she only knew how much I regretted every taunt, every rude or malicious comment I had casually thrown her way, maybe she would forgive me. I had always known, somewhere in the back of my mind, that it would all come back to haunt me.

'Scorpius?' My father's voice whispered from the other side of my shut bedroom door.

'Yeah?' I whispered back.

'Mind if I come in?' he queried. I considered for a moment.

'Nah, its fine. Come in if you want.'

The door opened a crack, and my father slid into the room, shutting us both in with a soft click.

'You've been seeming really down these past few days, kiddo. Are you alright?' Without an invitation, Dad crossed the room silently and plonked himself down on the end of my bed.

'I'm not in much of a Christmassy mood,' I confessed, sighing deeply.

'Why's that?' Dad probed, though I didn't mind him asking. It was nice that he cared.

'Um... mostly because of Rose,' I admitted sheepishly.

Dad grew silent for a long time. 'Rose Weasley?' he murmured.

'Mmm,' I agreed, trying not to look directly at him as my cheeks burned in the soft moonlight.

'I miss that girl,' he said quietly. 'She was always such a good influence on you, Scorp. Really polite and sweet too, never a bad word to say about anybody.'

I had always suspected that Dad had a soft spot for Rose, but hearing it confirmed only made me feel worse about the way I had left things with her.

'She has plenty of bad words to say about me,' I informed him glumly.

To my surprise, Dad chuckled. 'Your mother had more than a few bad words to say about me when I was seventeen. Come to think of it, I think Rose's parents were the same.'

I frowned into the semi-darkness. 'Dad, what're you on about?'

'Well, don't be dissuaded, son,' he said cajolingly, patting me on the shoulder.

'Seriously Dad, what are you on about?' I wondered, wondering if I was being exceptionally dense. Either that or my father really was thinking what I thought he was thinking. And he couldn't be thinking that, could he? Was I that transparent? There were too many thoughts for me to get my head around.

'Well, come on, Scorp, are you honestly telling me that you aren't in love with Rose?'

No, I was not telling him that. But I wasn't going to admit to it either.

'Dad... I...'

'I figured it out when you were both eleven. Do you remember when she came here for Easter and you held her egg while she painted it? She kissed you on the cheek and you turned the most brilliant shade of beetroot I've ever seen! It was hilarious, and of course, I knew from then on that it was only a matter of time. It took a bit longer than I'd expected, but there's my lesson – don't bet against your mother.'

I goggled at my father in shock. 'I'm sorry, what now? You and Mum were betting on when I would fall in love with Weasley?'

The surname slipped out of my mouth through habit. Dad raised his eyebrows.

'Well... yes, actually. Like Lena and the Longbottom boy. It was obvious.'

This was new. Selena was completely in love with Frank Longbottom, the boy who lived at the Leaky Cauldron with his parents, Herbology Professor Longbottom and his wife. Hannah Longbottom and my mother were good friends, and they often brought the kids around to play. Unfortunately, little Alice, who was only seven, had the misfortune of playing gooseberry between the two ten year olds, which couldn't be much fun.

Were Rose and I like that as kids? I hadn't noticed.

'Yes,' Dad informed me, as if he had read my mind. 'You were exactly like them.'

'Well, Merlin's beard, I didn't see that one coming!' I let out a low whistle.

'Scor?' Dad asked hesitantly. I surveyed him.

'Uh-huh?'

'Do you love Rose?'

I deliberated for a moment, and decided the truth would be the best option. 'Was Gryffindor brave?'

Dad smirked. 'I would say so.'

'Well then, yes.'

'Then Scor... let me give you some advice. Do not, I repeat, do not ever let her get away. It will be the biggest mistake you ever make. If you care about something, hang onto it for dear life.'

'What did you lose, Dad?' The question slipped out before I could stop it, and I had the uncomfortable wait while my father's eyes clouded over with bitter memories of the past.

'My childhood. My innocence. My friends. My respect. Take your pick. Just... know what you want, and don't let it escape you.'

I stifled a yawn behind my hand as I said, 'Okay Dad, I promise.'

'I'll let you get to sleep,' he decided. 'Otherwise Father Christmas won't come, will he?'

I rolled my eyes at my father, and he laughed.

'Come on, Scorp, where's your spirit?' He smirked at me. 'Or did you give it to Rose Weasley along with your heart?'

I lobbed one of my pillows across the room at him. He shielded himself and opened my bedroom door.

'Bye, Scorpius,' he said softly, and I could still hear his chuckles as he walked back down the hall and towards his own room.

_A/N – Just a fluffy sort of chapter with Scorpius and his dad, just to clear up what kind of man Draco is. Lucius, yes, has not changed, and is still a nasty piece of work, but Narcissa has mellowed him out a little bit. He DOES NOT approve of Rose Weasley in any way, but Draco and Astoria are totally 'Team Scose'. Next one is back at Hogwarts!! Eep!_


	8. Something To Smirk About

"Vic, I'm not sure I even want to go back," I sighed, staring out of the car window as we drove. I was lounging across the back seat of Teddy's Range Rover, trying not to think about how fast he was driving – he was a bit of a lead foot.

"Don't be ridiculous, Rosie! How can you not want to go back to Hogwarts? I'd give anything to be back there, wouldn't you, Ted?" Victoire flicked her long, strawberry blonde hair over one shoulder to check Teddy's answer.

"Yup. We first got together at Hogwarts. Nearly everyone does. I tell ya, it's a romantic place."

I blanched at the direction the conversation had taken. I hated it when they ganged up on me. It was bad enough that I had to ride with Teddy and Victoire on the way to Hogsmeade (they lived on the outskirts) – they really were the most sickeningly perfect couple on the planet. Not that either of them was perfect as an individual, far from it, but as a couple they were completely invincible. And still in the honeymoon stage of marriage. It was nauseating to someone who was desperately trying to forget the person she loved, and to no avail, I might add. Scorpius was weighing down my mind like the proverbial ton of bricks.

"Rosie, what's the matter? Seriously, this isn't like you. You live for Hogwarts... you love your studies more than I do, and I'm a Ravenclaw." I noticed the use of present tense. Victoire still considered herself a part of Hogwarts.

"It's... nothing," I sighed dejectedly.

Teddy laughed, brushing his hair from his eyes with the hand that wasn't clutching the steering wheel. His hair was his customary shade of turquoise today.

"There's a convincing lie if ever I heard one," he said sarcastically. I resisted the urge to hit him over the back of the head, but decided I valued my own life more. If I inadvertently knocked him unconscious while he was driving at this speed... it would be a bloodbath.

"C'mon Rosie, you can tell me!" Victoire encouraged. I knew I could tell her, and I wanted to, but the problem was Teddy. I was as close to Teddy as I was with my brother, don't get me wrong, and I treated him like my own flesh and blood, but anything Teddy knows, James knows, and I wasn't ready for James to hear about my love life.

"I'll tell you when Teddy isn't ear wigging," I promised. Teddy's mouth turned down into a mock-frown.

"What's the matter, Rosie-Posie? Don't you trust me?" His eyes sparkled with mischief as he said those words. He loved to tease me; he and James were two peas in a pod. But I suppose that was to be expected – they were the descendants of the Marauders.

Victoire turned to glare at her husband sharply. "Teddy, you are forbidden from repeating anything Rose says. You are on no condition allowed to tell James, or anyone else who springs to mind. If you do, I will make you sleep on the sofa for the next year. Okay?" she ended sweetly.

Teddy's grin slid off his face, to be replaced by a sombre expression. "Yes, Vicky."

I couldn't resist. I made the noise of the whip cracking. Teddy took his eyes off the road for long enough to pretend to glare at me. I laughed, but it turned into a sigh as I began my confession.

"It's Scorpius."

"The Malfoy kid that you used to be friends with? The one that you and Al hung around all summer after your first year? The one that smirked a lot?" Teddy asked, nonplussed, and at the same time Victoire crowed, "I knew it!"

"Yes, that Malfoy kid," I answered Teddy first, and then turned my attention onto the female Lupin. "And what do you mean, you knew it? Knew _what_, exactly?"

Vicky shrugged nonchalantly. "That you were in love with him."

I gasped audibly. Did everyone know that I was in love with Malfoy before I had even figured it out? My mum declared that she had known all along when I spoke to her about it, Albus accused me weeks ago, and Aunt Ginny figured it out after our conversation on Christmas Eve. Hugo had taken one look at the snitch I had been given for Christmas and said in a characteristically blunt tone, "So, still pining for Malfoy, I take it?"

Was I really that transparent?

"Am I really that transparent?" I voiced my thought aloud.

"No sweetie. I just know you that well," Victoire assured me.

"I don't trust him, Vicky," I said mournfully.

"Don't worry, he won't say anything. He would never risk being banished to the sofa," she vowed.

"No, not Teddy! Scorpius. I don't trust Scorpius," I explained.

"Why not?" Victoire tilted her head to the side, so that her beautiful face could better see my own, scrunched into the back seat as I was.

Once I had finished recounting a brief history of my relationship with Scorpius Malfoy to my eldest cousin, she looked amused. Not stumped, not appalled, but as if she was refraining from bursting out laughing. She found it funny.

"What are you grinning at?" I demanded.

"Oh, Rosie, you're so dense! He has always been head over heels in love with you, and he was being an immature schoolboy about it! Only now... now he's ready to be a man and admit his feelings. If you love him back... don't push him away."

I blinked rapidly, knowing Victoire had a point, but being a little too dazed to speak.

She was always right. And she always managed to look magnificently beautiful. It was quite annoying really.

"We're here," Teddy announced, cutting the car's engine outside the gate to Hogwarts. I opened the door and slid out, slamming it behind me securely.

"Thanks for the lift, Ted. And the advice, Vicky."

"No problem," they replied simultaneously, in that creepy way they have down to a fine art.

I turned, and began to walk back up to the gates.

"Rosie?" Teddy called me back again. I half-turned in his direction, to find him poking his turquoise head out of the driver's side window.

"Yeah?" I asked expectantly.

"Go give Malfoy something to smirk about."

***

My heart was hammering hard against my ribs as I headed into the Head's quarters. I was more than nervous about seeing Scorpius again, mostly because I didn't have a clue what to say to him. I wanted to break down and cry over all the little things that had fractured between us, and I wanted him to carefully mend each fragment until we were whole again, but I knew that was unrealistic. We would have to scrap the old relationship and begin a new one.

A clean slate. Easier said than done.

I saw his platinum blond, untidy locks from the doorway, and my heart kicked into overdrive. He was lounging back across the sofa, facing away from me and staring aimlessly out of the window. I had never truly appreciated how handsome he was, not until that moment, but I refrained from telling him that. What I said instead was;

"Galleon for your thoughts?"

Scorpius jumped in surprise, swung round, and after taking one look at me, hurtled off the sofa and swept me into a bone-crunching hug. Once he had set me on my feet again, I struggled to regain my breath. Staring into his stormy grey eyes was hardly the best cure – and definitely not a good idea if you were already breathless. My knees trembled, and I collapsed under my own weight. Luckily, Scorpius caught me before I had managed to fall, and was holding me up easily. He guided me towards his recently vacated seat and sat me down gently.

"Rose, did you get my present?" he asked solemnly.

"Yes, I got it."

"What did you think?" I heard the glimmer of hope in his voice there, and it made my heart flutter again.

"It was the best present I've ever had."

There was a long pause while Scorpius digested this. He looked smugly happy for a moment, but his face quickly settled into an expression of utter bewilderment.

"Rose... how are we? I mean, I just don't understand..." he trailed off, chewing his lip. That distracted me for a moment, but I quickly snapped out of it.

"D'you remember Teddy?" I asked suddenly. Scorpius frowned.

"The one with the blue hair that was in love with your veela cousin?" he checked.

"The very same," I grinned at him.

He grew wary. "What about him?"

"Well... he told me to give you something to smirk about."

Scorpius looked like he wanted to laugh, but was still too cautious to act on it.

"And what did you say?" he asked.

"I said I would."

Without another word, I leaned across and kissed Scorpius softly on the lips. Sure enough, when I pulled away, there was his trademark smirk, displayed on his handsome face in all its glory.

"So this means...?" he wondered, looking hopefully elated.

"You're forgiven." I replied, watching his smirk transform into a beam of victory. "For now," I added.

"I love you, Rose Weasley."

Yep, I wouldn't get tired of hearing that.

"I love you, too, Scorp."


	9. A Death Eater's Spots Don't Change

I woke up with a ridiculously stupid grin plastered across my face. I had been repeating the pattern for the last month, and the reason was always in the common room the second I bounded out of my bedroom door, dutifully waiting for me to get up, usually with a book in one hand and a half-eaten piece of toast in the other.

As per my new – and infinitely improved – routine, I threw myself out of bed and washed and dressed haphazardly, hurtling out of my room in double-quick time with my tie crooked and my hair dishevelled.

And as per my new routine, Rose was waiting, extending a piece of toast out to me calmly, _The Charms Compendium_ propped open in her lap.

"I got you some toast, Scorp. D'you want it?" I took the food gladly, and leaned down to kiss her chastely on the lips. _Long may this morning greeting continue_, I thought approvingly.

"Thanks, Rosie," I said, my mouth already full. She wrinkled her nose at me in mild revulsion.

"You eat like my dad," she observed distastefully, watching me cram nearly a whole slice of toast into my mouth in one bite.

"'Orry!" I apologised, showering her with crumbs. She pulled a face and brushed the crumbs away, torn between exasperation and amusement. I watched the conflicting emotions fighting for dominance on her beautiful face, waiting until she had picked one way or the other before speaking again.

"Pig," she commented, and then smiled. Amusement won then.

"You love me really," I reminded her.

"Merlin knows why," Rose replied, with an eye roll to cap off her sarcasm.

I grinned at her blissfully, still not quite able to believe that my luck had changed so dramatically in such a short space of time.

"Guess what?" I began conversationally.

"What?" Rose answered, flicking the page in her textbook as she spoke, sucking the jam off the thumb on her other hand.

"I'm meeting Grandfather today in Hogsmeade."

Rose stopped sucking her thumb abruptly.

"Why on earth would you do that?" she demanded, surprised.

"Because he asked me to?" I made it sound like a question.

"But... Scorp, I don't know... your Grandfather... every time you speak about him, it just seems like he's up to something, and I don't know whether..."

"He said he misses me, and he just wants to have a chat and catch up, that's all. It's nothing to worry about." I patted her knee consolingly. Grandfather was a bit of a chore, but he was getting on a bit, and I didn't like to disappoint him.

"I don't like it."

"Rose, honestly, it'll all be fine. I'll go and have a drink with Grandfather, and then I'll come and meet you at two, okay?" I watched as Rose deliberated this, trying to find an angle to argue from, no doubt.

When it appeared that she couldn't find one, she sighed in defeat. "Okay."

"Did you tell your parents about us yet?" I asked, the thought suddenly occurring to me.

"I told my mum, but I think she saw it coming anyway. Not Dad yet though. I think he might just explode. I mean, he used to like you and everything, only, y'know, since everything that happened... not so much. What about you? Did you tell yours?" She leaned forward, clearly interested.

"Yup, told them by owl. Augustus came back with a note from Dad saying how happy he was for the both of us, and that Mum won't stop crying and bleating on about 'her little Scorpius in love' and the fact that you're 'such a smart, pretty girl' and that she's 'ecstatic'. I think it's fair to say that they took it pretty well."

Rose laughed, and her blue eyes sparkled with delight. "Yeah, you could say that."

"It's nice that they like you," I decided, cheered by the thought.

"Yeah, I know, it makes me feel a bit better about telling my dad. Although, I'm not entirely sure he won't hunt you down with an axe or something."

I turned a nasty shade of green, as something sickeningly unpleasant occurred to me. Rose chuckled at my expression, misinterpreting it.

"Don't worry, Scorp, I'll protect you," she assured me.

My face remained frozen in a look of utter horror.

"Scorp? What's the matter?" Rose looked concerned now.

"What... what if Dad told Grandfather, and that's why he wants to meet me today..." I trailed off, appalled at the thought. Rose's expression became alarmed now.

"He wouldn't... would he?" she asked, clearly worried. As well she should be. I was suddenly nervous about meeting my grandfather. What if he tried to do away with me or something? Or worse... what if he tried to hurt Rose?

"I don't know. He might not see the harm in it. Dad gives Grandfather too much credit."

"I suppose all you can do is find out," Rose sighed.

"Mmm," I agreed, though I was far from reassured.

***

Rose could feel my nerves as we walked through the centre of Hogsmeade. My hand was like a vice around hers; once or twice I felt her wince, but as she didn't protest I ignored it. I needed the support quite badly, and she was sweet enough to offer it.

It wasn't as though I was facing a death sentence. My father heartily approved of Rose, my mother asked me when I was planning on making her a Malfoy, and Grandma... well, she wouldn't care if the person I was dating was covered in scales, so long as she made me happy. So why did my Grandfather's opinion matter so much to me, I wondered.

Perhaps it was that inexplicable feeling in the pit of my stomach that I had, that sense that something calamitous was about to happen, and that it had something to do with this meeting. I'd always had a great gut instinct, and – to use a muggle reference Rose was so fond of – my spider-sense was tingling.

It was probably nothing more than the fact that my grandfather was just an inherently creepy man. There was something shifty about his steely eyes and his snake-like smile, something that made it almost impossible to trust him. I could compare him to smoke; suspicious and difficult to contain.

Rose applied a light pressure to my hand. Worrying about me, always worrying. I liked that.

I slowed to a reluctant halt outside the Three Broomsticks, and Rose stopped with me, though she did not relinquish her grip on my fingers.

"Do you want me to come in with you?" she whispered, but I shook my head.

"If he doesn't know, that would be a giveaway," I replied in a small voice. I really needed to buck up my ideas and start acting like I actually was a man.

"I love you," she murmured, standing on her toes to kiss me softly on the lips. I kissed her back briefly.

"Love you too," I answered, before squaring my shoulders and taking a step away from her. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck," Rose said obediently, smiling a smile that caused my stomach to do a backflip.

Taking a deep, calming breath and reassuring myself for the thousandth time that I was a grown-up and my grandfather really wasn't that scary, I took the steps to the door of the Three Broomsticks two at a time and pushed it open.

A swell of heat and chattering noise hit me full in the face. I reeled back from the intensity of it for a second, before sucking in one last gasp of frigid air and ducking through the open doorway.

"Scorpius!" Grandfather was impossible to not spot. His hair was waist length and undecided of its colour – whether it should be white or blond, it wasn't sure, so settled for a combination of the two. He wore his familiar shark-like smile.

I trudged over to his table, unsurprised to see that he had already ordered me a butterbeer. He loved to control everything around him, and as I was usually quite difficult to bully into submission, he had taken the liberty of ordering me a drink to prevent me from doing it myself, whilst managing to look kind and thoughtful. He truly was a master at work.

Sliding into the seat opposite him, I made an effort to show my manners. "Good afternoon, Grandfather. How are you today?"

He sat back in his chair with a hard-to-read expression, his eyes curiously devoid of any emotion – like metal. "I've been better, but then again, I've been worse."

What in Merlin's name was that supposed to mean?

"Uh... well... any particular reason that you wanted to see me today?" I asked cheerfully, taking a swig of my butterbeer.

"Weasley."

I gagged, coughed, and my drink dribbled out of my nose.

"W-Weasley?" I asked with some trepidation.

"Yes..." Grandfather was eyeing me warily now. "Ronald Weasley. He's that Potter boy's uncle, the one you used to be chummy with. He came to visit Narcissa and me and had the audacity to throw the war in our faces. It was, to be frank, verbal abuse."

I breathed out, relaxing. "Oh, right."

"Why did the name Weasley worry you, Scorpius?" Grandfather wondered, his metallic eyes boring into mine suddenly, in a very oppressive way.

"Because... nothing. I just... don't really like the Weasleys," I improvised.

Grandfather's expression grew complacent. "Who does?" he asked airily. "Other than the filthy half of the Wizarding World, blood traitors as they are."

That comment offended me as a slap in the face would have. I swallowed loudly. I shouldn't have to hide my relationship with Rose, I decided. If Grandfather didn't like it, then that was his prerogative. At least I wouldn't need to look over my shoulder and wonder when he would discover the truth.

"Grandfather, I was lying."

"Oh? About what?" he asked pleasantly, taking a sip of his Gillywater.

"About not liking the Weasleys. As a matter of fact, I do like the Weasleys. Because... because of Rose."

Grandfather's eyes narrowed. "Who might Rose be?"

I swallowed again, though my mouth was dry as a bone. "Rose... Weasley. Ron and Hermione's daughter and my... my... girlfriend." I choked the word out eventually, and Grandfather made a hissing sound like an angry Kneazle.

"Your what?" he demanded quietly, his tone poisonous. "Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, tell me you are joking!"

"Nope," I declared, refusing to chicken out now, even though he had just presented me with the option. "It's no joke. I'm in love with her. I plan to be for a considerable length of time. Possibly forever."

"But..." Grandfather spluttered. I had never seen him so incoherent in my life. "But you can't have just decided one day to fall in love with a Weasley!"

"No... but then, I've waited five years to admit it to her, so if I waited any longer I would be retired." My feeble attempt at a joke was eclipsed by his anger.

"YOU CANNOT BE IN LOVE WITH ROSE WEASLEY!" he bellowed, finally losing his hold on 'dignified'. I recoiled from his furious expression, as every head in the pub swivelled in our direction.

"Well I am! Deal with it!" I roared back, snatching up my cloak from the chair and getting to my feet.

"Where do you think you're going?" Grandfather demanded furiously.

"To meet Rose and to get as far away from you as I can! You haven't changed Grandfather! You'll always be a Death Eater."

Though I barely whispered the words, there was a wave of whispers rippling through the pub when I uttered that insult. I picked up my bottle of butterbeer, downed it in one gulp, and set the empty container back on the shiny wooden table. I didn't look at Grandfather's face once.

Not bothering to see how much damage I had done, and no longer caring about whether my grandfather would ever speak to me again, I marched out of the Three Broomsticks, leaving the door swinging on its hinges in my angry wake.


	10. Fear Itself

I paced up and down my father's office, and as I paced, I panicked.

Today, I was working up the nerve to tell Dad, and so far, I was chickening out of saying anything. I really was a terrible Gryffindor. Scorpius had told Lucius, and though he dismissed his grandfather's reaction, I had a sense that they had had a serious fight. That made it all the more vital that I do this.

Dad was in a meeting with Uncle Harry, Teddy and the rest of the Aurors, so that left me hovering about in his office and wishing I'd never come. I owed it to Scorp, though, and that's the only thought that stopped me from bolting out the door.

I practiced.

"Listen, Dad, you know how Scorpius Malfoy and I kind of... well, fell out a bit? Well, thing is, we sort of... made up and now we're a... couple." _No that was way too clumsy_. I needed something that flowed more, that radiated the absolute certainty I felt about our relationship.

"Listen, Dad, I know you hate Scorpius Malfoy and want to disembowel him and stick his head on a spike and display it from the Astronomy tower in Hogwarts, but I'm dating him." _That was, if possible, worse than the first one. Forget that, then._

"Dad, I just want you to know that the reason I have been so miserable the past few months... well, years really, is because I was hopelessly in love with Scorpius Malfoy and it turns out that he loves me too, so now we're together. Sorry if that upsets you." _Sorry if that upsets you? No. Definitely not! This is not coming out right..._

"Rosie-Posie?" Dad's voice came from behind me as he entered the room, and I shrieked and jumped backwards, spilling a ceramic pot of quills all over his desk as I knocked them with one flailing hand.

"Ah! Oh, sorry, Daddy!" I apologised, hastily gathering up the fallen quills. "You made me jump."

"Don't worry about it kiddo. It's only a couple of feathers. How come you came down here on a weekend especially to see me?" Dad crossed behind his desk and sat down in his chair, motioning with one hand for me to do the same in the only other vacant chair, the one in front of his desk. I sat obediently. _I didn't get a chance to find the right thing to say_, I fretted. _I'm just going to have to wing it and hope for the best. _At least St. Mungo's was nearby, should the need for a healer arise. It was a possibility.

"I wanted to talk to you about something," I informed him, working hard to keep the tremor out of my voice.

"What has Hugo done now?" he asked suspiciously, his eyes narrowing. I felt simultaneously smug and stung at his assumption. Smug, because Dad never assumed that I had done anything wrong; that was an impossibility for him. Stung, because he was so ready to believe that I would tell tales on my brother.

"Hugo hasn't done anything, Dad, honestly. It's about... me."

Dad nodded seriously and stroked his long, freckled nose thoughtfully with one finger. "What's the matter, honey?"

"I have some news..." I began, taking a deep breath to steel myself. "And I don't think you're going to like it."

I watched as Dad's eyes grew too wide for their sockets. "Rosie, you're starting to scare me."

I screwed my eyes shut tight; it was easier to crush him when I couldn't see his face. "I... it's about Scorpius Malfoy." I opened my eyes a fraction to see my father's murderous glare, and shut them again quickly.

"What has that boy done to you now?" he growled, livid.

"Nothing. Or, well, nothing bad. He... I... We... Ilovehimandwe'regoingout!"My words tumbled out in one big splurge.

There was nothing but silence for a very long time. I could hear the bustle of ministry workers outside Dad's office, I could hear the whirring of one of his weird magical instruments in the corner, and I could even hear the ticking of his watch. But there was no noise coming from him.

Cautiously, I opened my eyes again.

Dad was leaning forward with his hands braced on the table and his blue eyes popping. His mouth was slack and he looked half crazed, a demeanour which was added to by the fact that his skin was slowly curdling, or so it appeared, changing from cream to pink to magenta to scarlet to maroon to indigo. I waited patiently until he could regain the ability to speak, my knees knocking together.

"Breathe, Dad. You're turning worrying colours," I instructed. He complied, drawing in one ragged breath. Still, he said nothing.

Finally, he barked out one word, short and sharp. "WHAT?"

"Dad..." I tried to placate him, actually beginning to get concerned for his heart.

"Don't you 'Dad' me, Rose Weasley! What are you _thinking_?! Have you lost your _mind_?! MALFOY! After everything he's put you through! Are you just a glutton for punishment Rose, is that it?! That boy is TROUBLE! And you are _too good_ for him! What in Merlin's name is going through your head?! Of all the things..."

I flinched when he shouted, but otherwise remained unresponsive until I was sure he had run out of steam. It took an impressive seventeen minutes for him to calm down, and when he did, he sank into his chair with his head in his hands.

"Malfoy!" he muttered weakly, shaking his head in desperation.

"Dad, I'm really hoping you're going to be okay with this," I whispered. "Because Scorpius is really, really important to me. And whether you like it or not, I can see this relationship going the distance. And I mean that."

He lifted his head up to look me in the eye at those words. "You can?"

"Yes," I vowed, and my transparent honesty was convincing enough for my father.

***

Possibly the best part about the fact that Dad had finally, finally come around to the idea of me and Scorpius was that we now had nothing to hide. And now that we had nothing to hide... we both felt entirely weightless. That was both a good thing, and a bad thing. Good, because it meant that there was no need to look over our shoulders. Bad, because, well, there was nothing to hold us back now, nothing to stop us from being and doing whatever we wanted... and that kind of freaked me out.

Okay, it terrified me.

Not that I would dream of mentioning it to Scorp. We were just lying together on the sofa in our common room, talking quietly and exchanging kisses, but still, I worried. I wondered and I worried what would happen when he moved his hand a bit higher than where it lay on my waist, or even scarier, if he moved it lower. I wouldn't have the first clue about what to do, but he did, and that was the problem. What if he thought I was ridiculously naive and daft? What if he laughed at me? What if... and this was the worst thought of all... he decided he didn't want to be with me anymore? These worries, the product of a lifetime's insecurities somehow centring on Scorpius Malfoy, were eating me up inside until I couldn't even enjoy the moment for what it was; just a kiss.

Scorpius pulled back from me, and my lips were suddenly free. I pressed them tightly together and looked up into his mercury grey eyes with an apologetic expression.

His eyes narrowed slightly. "You aren't into this, are you?" he accused. I blushed. So I hadn't fooled him by pretending I wasn't worried. Drat.

"It's not you, it's..."

He cut me off. "Rosie, I swear, if you finish that sentence by saying _me_, I will hex you." There was a slightly mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he spoke, but the threat was still there.

"I wasn't going to say me!" I protested.

"Well, that's alright then," he replied, smirking.

"I was going to say that I..." I trailed off; embarrassed by the hole I had just dug for myself.

"That you...?" he prompted gently, stroking the back of his hand across one of my burning cheeks.

"That I don't really know... where to go from here. I mean, I don't know how..." But instead of finishing my sentence, I dropped my gaze and turned completely magenta, stuttering into silence. Seventeen years old and a complete novice towards anything more sexually explicit than kissing! I should be ashamed of myself. I bet Scorpius is embarrassed for me.

"Rosie." His tone was very serious. I glanced up again, and was surprised to find him smiling down at me. Not a teasing smile, but one of those gloatingly affectionate smiles that a loved-up newlywed husband gives his wife. "Are you trying to tell me that you're a bit nervous because you're a virgin and you don't know how serious this will get and how quickly it will happen?"

Well, yes, actually, that's what I was trying to articulate – and failing miserably. "Uh-huh."

"It's not a race, Rosie," he answered softly, his breath tickling my cheek.

"I know, I just thought..."

"Take it one step at a time, babe. We've only got forever." I smiled at his words. I liked the sound of forever.

"You're not... impatient?" I asked, feeling that my wording was wrong, and concerned that I might offend him. Scorpius smirked again.

"About most things, yes. With you... no. I've waited five years for you, Rosie. A few more months won't kill me."

I pulled my head up off the sofa cushions and kissed him with a ferocity that was a surprise to _myself,_ let alone Scorpius. Although, it was a good one, as far as surprises went, so his response was to pull my arms up tightly around his neck and kiss me back with a fervour that bordered on violence. His hand slid down my waist and along my thigh, and I let it. It didn't seem nerve-wracking when he was kissing me like this. I wasn't nervous when his hand began to whisper across the skin on the inside of my thigh, either. It seemed so silly, because there was nothing scary about it.

I broke free of our kiss then, and my fingers moved to Scorpius's neck, to fumble around with the knot of his tie, trying to loosen it.

"Rose," he panted. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" I answered, just as breathlessly. "I'm trying to undo this."

"But I thought you said...?" he began, puzzled. His hands automatically moved to his tie, and he tugged it loose in one effortless jerk. I had to marvel for a second at how he did that.

"Oh, never mind what I said!" I snapped impatiently. "I was talking rubbish!"

He laughed, a sound of surprised delight, as I crushed my lips against his once more, my fingers now unbuttoning his shirt quickly and clumsily. He, a lot more artfully than me, it had to be said, raised my arms in the air and tugged my jumper off, our kiss breaking for only a second. He threw it casually on the floor at the same time as I disregarded his shirt. I moved so that I was straddling his lap, and began to unbutton my own top, while Scorpius lightly trailed kisses down my neck and across my collarbone. I was breathing so hard it sounded like I had just run a marathon.

"Rosie," he whispered as he inched the hem of my skirt higher up my thighs with one hand. "Are you sure about this?"

I gave him a disparaging look. "Don't I seem sure?"

"Well, you seem _drunk_, to be perfectly honest." His smirk was back. I laughed giddily.

"Malfoy, for once in your life, shut up," I instructed sternly.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, and leaned in to press his lips to mine once more.

***

I woke up to a canopy of green hangings and nothing but a quilt protecting my modesty. A light blush creeping up my cheeks, I grinned. Last night had been... well, perfect, really. In a kind of stop-the-clocks, stand-on-top-of-the-Astronomy-tower-and-sing-your-love-to-the-world way. I couldn't have been happier if I had won the Daily Prophet Lottery jackpot, or if Rita Skeeter was thrown into Azkaban for slander and libel in regards to my family. This was one of those defining moments, the ones where you wake up and everything is just the way it's meant to be.

It was complete heaven. And there was one person to share it with...

I rolled over, and expecting to feel warm skin, I instead felt nothing but cold sheets. Surprised, I opened my eyelids. The sunlight was bright and extremely disorientating, so I rubbed my knuckles across my eyes hard, in an effort to clear them. Blinking heavily, I waited for my eyes to adjust.

It was quiet, too quiet, and that was the first sign that something wasn't right.

"Scorpius?" I called. No answer except birdsong. I tried again. "Scorp? Are you there?"

If he were anywhere in our common area, he would have heard that. I couldn't see him just ignoring me, so that led me to conclude that he wasn't in our tower, and had gone down for breakfast. I moved to get up, and then suddenly, I saw.

Scorpius's side of his bed was littered with shards of glass, as was the stone floor. And the window... the window had been smashed.

I felt nausea sweeping over me, and I clapped a hand to my mouth. "No!"

I dashed over to the shattered window, not caring that I wasn't wearing any clothes, and not caring that I might cut myself on the broken glass. Something, or someone, had been through here. Someone had taken Scorpius.

I peered at a shard of glass still sticking out of the window. It was at about the height of my armpit, and it was stained in deep crimson.

Blood.

"Oh my God!" I hissed; my voice no more than a deathly whisper. "Scorpius, where are you?"

A frightened tear splashed down my cheek.


	11. The Morning After The Night Before

I woke up with a splitting sore head and the left side of my ribs feeling as though they were on fire. Lying on my back, I concentrated in calming my laboured breathing. Deep breath in, deep breath out. In. Out. I repeated the cycle until I felt slightly more relaxed, but it didn't soothe the jarring pain in my side.

My memory of last night was like a hazy fog. I vividly remembered having sex with Rose. That would be something I never forgot, not if I lived to be a million. It was the best experience of my entire life, hands down.

And then...

I screwed my eyes up, trying to remember.

_I had been lying on my bed, just staring down at Rose while she slept, pathetically and hopelessly in love as I am, and she was kind of being a cover hog, so I got up to put on my pyjama trousers in case I got a bit cold. Then I walked back to the bed, and suddenly something came flying through the window. My first reaction was some pranksters throwing something from down below, and I was about to abuse my authority by swearing loudly at them when something grabbed me from behind, clamping it's hand over my mouth. I bit down, and whatever or whoever it was swore. I twisted out of their grip, but they caught me again. And then there was another one, and I couldn't fight them both off. I tried to scream for help, but one of them pointed his wand at my throat and yelled 'Silencio!'. _

_Then I had kicked one of them, and he'd slammed my head into the wall. I couldn't do anything beyond that – I was seeing spots. I just hung limply over his arm as he dragged me out the window onto something – a broom maybe? I only tried to struggle again when the glass from the window pierced into my ribs. _

_I had felt a wand being jabbed in my face, and then I heard 'Stupefy!"_

The next thing I knew, I had woken up here. Though where _here_ was exactly was still a mystery to me. The surface I was lying on was cold, and incredibly hard, so I assumed it was a stone floor. My chest was still bare, so I assumed I was wearing my pyjama trousers like before. With a stupendous effort, I managed to open my eyes.

What I saw made me reach over and pinch myself to make absolutely sure I wasn't dreaming.

I was in a prison-like cell, with a heavy door and a barred window, but it was a very familiar prison cell. This was – almost impossibly – one of the containment cells in Malfoy Manor, unless I was woefully mistaken, which I didn't think I was.

Why in Merlin's name would I be in Malfoy Manor?

I decided to try and see if I could get any answers from anybody. "Hello?" Nothing.

My stomach growled. "Oi! Anyone?"

When there was no response again, I sighed deeply and picked myself up off the floor, each movement precarious as I tried not to aggravate the gash in my side. There was another ripping roar from my stomach, and I looked down in a benignly interested way. _I wonder when the last time I ate was?_ I thought. It was... lunch. Yesterday. Rose and I were a little too... ahem... preoccupied by other activities to bother about dinner.

A sickening worry suddenly clawed at my heart. _Where was Rose?_

"Hey!" I yelled, my own voice making me wince. "Hey! What have you done with my girlfriend? Oi! Look, stop bloody ignoring me! SOMEBODY!"

Defeated, I slumped against the wall, my side stinging painfully from the exertion of shouting. To my surprise, I heard a sudden scuffling outside the door, followed by the unmistakeable clinking of keys. The door began to creak open, and my hands balled into fists, suddenly tense. Whoever was behind that door, they were no friend of mine, and either they had my wand or it was still on my bedside table, but either way, I was defenceless.

The door opened the whole way, to reveal a tall man with a grotesquely twisted face, and billowing, hooded black robes that were jarringly familiar. I had seen the pictures in the history books. Death Eater robes.

"Who the hell are you, and what are you doing locking me in the cellar of my own house?" I demanded, sounding braver than I felt. The man's wand was pointed directly at my heart as he advanced into my frigid cell.

"My name is Antonin Dolohov. And I'm following orders," he replied in a cold, dead voice.

I frowned in confusion. "Whose orders?"

"That would be mine." A voice I recognised instantly sounded from outside the doorway, and a figure stepped forward from the shadowy corridor, throwing himself into the weak light filtering down from the door to the main house, left ajar. The silverish-blond of his hair glinted in the half-light, and a nasty smile turned up the corners of his thin lips.

I met my grandfather's steely gaze boldly, my chin up. "Where's Rose?" I snarled.

"I couldn't care less where that filthy little half-blood is. She is in a corner of your bedroom crying over your disappearance and being comforted by her muggle mother, no doubt."

"Hermione is a witch," I replied through gritted teeth.

"Her mudblood mother, then. Even worse." He smirked, but it wasn't an endearing expression on his face. It was repugnant, and it sent tremors up my spine, making my skin crawl.

"Why am I in the cellar?" I asked in a heavy voice. Now that I knew Rose was safe, I could resign myself to my grandfather's mind games. "And why the grievous bodily harm to get me here?" I indicated my bleeding side.

"I am sorry about that, Scorpius. My friends evidently got a little carried away. Rest assured I gave them a talking to."

"Oh, well that's alright then," I replied, the sarcasm dripping from my tone. My grandfather rolled his eyes.

"Episkey," he said calmly, pointing his wand at my side. It healed instantly.

"Thanks," I answered grudgingly. "Where's my wand?"

Grandfather shrugged. "I haven't the faintest idea." My heart sank. _How was I supposed to disapparate out of here without a wand?_

"You didn't answer my question," I reminded him, the fact only just occurring to me. He was good at diversions. "What am I doing here?"

"All in good time, boy." Dolohov smiled at my grandfather's words, and I felt the hint of a threat lingering there. I fought back the impulse to shiver. I wouldn't look weak. Not in front of Grandfather.

"I need to speak to Rose." It wasn't a suggestion.

"That won't be a need you feel for much longer, Scorpius. I assure you."

I couldn't miss the threat in those words. But I wasn't sure what he meant. Before I could ask, he had withdrawn from the cell, and Dolohov shut the door with a resounding and poetic clang, blocking out all light again. All hope.

Leaving me alone in the dark.

***

**A/N; Okay, this one is kind of short, but it's just an explanation update so everyone doesn't think Scorpius has died! And next time, Rose is going to call in reinforcements to find Scorpius. Which means Dad, Uncle Harry and Teddy. Yay!**

**Porschejacker XD**


	12. Interviews

I fidgeted in my chair, my heart racing at a hundred miles an hour as I drew in shaky, uneven breaths. Professor McGonagall, looking very dour and businesslike, faced me, her lips pressed together in such a thin line that they almost disappeared. I sighed and closed my eyes, just waiting. It was, if possible, worse than when I woke up this morning. Every second got more and more strained.

_Where was Scorpius?_

I had been chanting that question in my head so often that it was beginning to sound meaningless. I sighed another shaky sigh, my eyes flashing nervously to the door.

_Why aren't they here yet?_

As if they had been waiting for my silent command, there was a short rap at the entrance to McGonagall's office, followed by the familiar voice of Draco Malfoy.

"Professor McGonagall, may we come in?"

"Please do, Mr Malfoy." They were being awfully formal. And their voices sounded... wrong. As though they were expecting the worst possible news. I refused to entertain the idea that Scorpius was badly hurt, but they sounded like... like he was never coming back.

They had funeral voices.

My breathing quickened into short, sharp pants. I hoped I wasn't having an anxiety attack.

The door opened, and in strode Scorpius's parents. It was like a sucker-punch to the stomach, looking at Draco Malfoy's face. Despite being obviously older, and his hair being tidier and thinner, he looked frighteningly like Scorpius. Right down to the stormy grey eyes. My heart clenched painfully.

Astoria followed him in, her eyes rimmed with red and her hands trembling. She looked exactly as I remembered, even though I hadn't seen her for five years. Long, jet-black hair, a peachy heart-shaped face, and deep blue eyes, a few shades darker than my own. Her long lashes still had tears clinging to them. I smiled weakly at her, and her chin wobbled. Clutching Astoria's hand was a small girl with waist length ebony hair and mercury eyes, her cheeks puffy from crying and her face as white as a sheet.

"Oh, Rose!" she cried, and threw her arms around me, breaking down again. Draco raised one hand and rubbed her back soothingly, his own jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed.

"Come on, Astoria, you have to calm down a bit, sweetheart. We need to talk about how we're going to get Scorp back." Draco's voice sounded hollow, and I got the impression that, had he considered it an acceptable thing to let himself cry, his eyes would have been as watery as his wife's. As it was, he sounded as though he had a lump in his throat the size of Ben Nevis.

"Y-y-es, of c-c-course," she sniffed, and allowed herself to be guided to a chair. With his wife subdued slightly, Draco turned to me.

"Are you alright to be here, Rose? If it's too much for you to deal with, I can understand..."

"No. I _want_ to be here. I... I love him, too." I hesitated, wondering how Draco would take my words, but to my surprise he gave me a meek smile.

"As long as you're sure, then we'll be grateful to have you." He sat down beside the bleary-eyed Astoria, entwining his hand with hers. Selena, Scorpius's little sister, climbed into her father's lap, and buried her head in his chest. His free hand began idly stroking her hair.

"Mr and Mrs Malfoy, I am so sorry to have to call you here under these circumstances."

Draco nodded his head solemnly. "Does anybody know anything?"

"The one person who knows the most is Rose, and even then... there isn't much to go on, I'm afraid." I hung my head woefully at McGonagall's words. How I wished I had seen more, or helped more.

"He... he left his wand behind," I whispered. There was a very pregnant silence as the Malfoys digested this unpleasant information. A wizard never left his wand behind voluntarily. And no wand meant a complete inability to fight.

Astoria closed her eyes mournfully, a silent sob making her shoulders jerk. She gripped Draco's hand even tighter, her knuckles turning white. He nodded again, one swift bob of his head.

"What did you see?" Astoria choked out, turning her tear streaked face to me with an expression of slight hope.

"I... well, I woke up, and Scorpius was gone. I didn't see it at first, but there was all this broken glass on the floor, and then I noticed that the window had been smashed. His wand was lying on the table, and there was nothing on the ground below the window, on the outside I mean. So my best guess is that someone pulled him onto a broom, because you can't apparate or disapparate inside the Hogwarts' grounds. My mum told me." I bit down hard on my bottom lip to stop myself from crying. The tears that threatened to spill burned like acid in my eyes.

"Scorpius..." Astoria moaned; her tone was a lament. Her eyes closed again, and she began to rock slightly in her seat.

"Wait..." Draco began slowly. "Where was this, exactly?"

I frowned, not sure what he meant. "In Scorpius's bedroom."

Draco nodded, but his expression was a little wary. It was confusing, trying to divulge his intentions. "How did you know he had gone?"

"Because I woke up and he wasn't there," I replied, still mystified as to where he was leading me with these questions.

"No, I mean, was there something on the floor in the common room to alert you?" he continued, his face speculative, his grey eyes focused on a point that seemed to be miles away.

"The common room?" I asked, nonplussed. "Why would there be?"

"I'm merely wondering how you found out he had been taken from his room this morning when you woke up in yours. Is he up earlier than you?"

The realisation of the hole I had unintentionally dug for myself because of my embarrassing gaffe caused me to blush, the colour searing my cheeks.

_This was not a conversation I ever wanted to have with my boyfriend's parents..._

It was my turn to close my eyes, only to somehow lessen the excruciating embarrassment my next words would inflict upon me.

"No, he sleeps a lot later, usually. But I wasn't in my room, so that's how I knew."

"Oh," Astoria's voice was soft as it dawned on her what I was trying to say. Draco, on the other hand, remained painfully oblivious to my implications.

"Where were you then?" he asked. He didn't sound belligerent, merely incredibly puzzled.

"In... in Scorpius's room."

A pause, and then he spoke again, with a comment worthy of my own father's obtuseness. "What were you doing in there?"

_Oh, God, he's really going to make me say it. He really and truly doesn't know what I'm hinting at. I have to spell it out for him. _

I cringed, and I could tell that McGonagall and Astoria were cringing with me. I hoped the conversation was going over Lena's head, but I had my doubts. From what Scorpius had told me about her, she seemed pretty precocious.

"I was... we were... uh, I mean... I was there because we... slept together last night."

"Oh." An indifferent tone at first. Then it clicked. "_Oh_. Oh, right. Huh. Okay. Um..."

My eyes opened again, to see Astoria blushing slightly, McGonagall looking like she was trying to hold back a smile, and Draco wearing an expression appropriate on a person who had just been hit unexpectedly over the back of the head with a heavy object.

We all stared at each other, apparently at a loss for words. Lena regarded me with a knowing look in her eyes, and I got the impression that she was the first person in the room to catch wise to my comments.

Just then, the door burst open, making us all jump, and in traipsed the Auror squad, alongside my mother, whose brown eyes were wide with concern as she flitted to my side, wrapping one slender arm around my shoulders and smoothing my hair in much the same way as Draco was doing for Lena. I smiled at her reassuringly, and she moved back to give me some air, perching on the arm of my chair.

Dad stood behind us, his hands hovering protectively at my back. Uncle Harry walked to McGonagall's side and stood to attention, flashing me a caring smile and giving Draco a respectful nod. Seamus Finnigan hovered unobtrusively at the back of the room, alongside Dennis Creevey.

Teddy brought up the rear, standing like a blue-haired sentinel guarding McGonagall's door. He grinned at me when I caught his eye, and I couldn't help but feel a little of his infectious enthusiasm. Even when there was precious little to be excited about, Teddy found something to induce good cheer. It probably came from being handsome, having a stunning part-veela wife and a lucrative career. Or maybe that was doing him a great injustice. It was probably more to do with the fact that he was just a perpetually happy person, unfazed by anything.

Even now, he just stood there, smiling away. It didn't bother me, but I imagine it didn't win him many friends in the Malfoy family.

"What's been going on?" Mum asked gently, patting my shoulder as she spoke. I flashed Astoria a pleading look. As embarrassing as it was to confess to the Malfoys about my newfound loss of virginity, it would be a thousand times worse having to repeat the process with my own parents, actually, half my family listening.

"Scorpius was taken from the Head's tower," Astoria croaked, thus saving me from death by humiliation. "And we don't know who by or how. Rose thinks he was pulled onto a broom. He left his wand behind."

There was another grave silence as my family absorbed this information.

"Right, okay," Uncle Harry nodded, pressing on. I chanced a glance at Teddy, and saw that he was no longer smiling. However, as soon as he saw me looking, he mouthed. "Were you in his room last night?"

I nodded, grateful that he didn't ask me that question aloud. Teddy shook his head at me in mock condemnation.

"Rose," he admonished, but completely silently. I flashed him a look that said; don't-even-go-there-I-have-dirt-on-you-that-could-last-a-lifetime. At least, I hoped that's what the look said.

"Can I get a look at his bedroom?" Uncle Harry asked, tapping the side of his glasses thoughtfully.

"Of course," McGonagall nodded. "Rose can show you the way."

I stood; my legs a little bit shaky. The numbness was beginning to wear off, and I could suddenly feel my stomach again. It felt as though it had been lined with lead.

Uncle Harry offered his arm to me for support, and I took it gratefully. He turned to Draco, as if something had suddenly occurred to him. "Would you like to come, Draco? You might know something... if not, I suppose you could maybe compile a couple of family grudge lists. Useful information, things like that."

Draco accepted this offer without even considering it, springing to his feet. He seemed at a loss before, but now there was a hard edge of determination to his eyes.

"Thank you." He stooped to give his wife a quick kiss, and pass his daughter to her. We all watched as Astoria took out a small pouch, made her way over to the fire in McGonagall's hearth, threw some floo powder onto the flames, and stepped into the grate, Lena's hand clasped in her own. She disappeared as she said her address. Draco was following Uncle Harry out of the room in the next instant. The rest of the Aurors filed out, Mum hand-in-hand with Dad, until only McGonagall, Teddy and I remained. Teddy held out his hand for me to take, and I grabbed onto it like it was a lifeline. He winced as his bones crunched.

"Oh, and Mister Lupin?" McGonagall said loftily as we turned to leave the room. He half-turned to face her again, an expectant look on his face.

"Yes, Professor?"

"If I catch you setting fire to, pouring water on, vanishing, transfiguring or in any other way damaging school property, I shall be forced to report you to your godfather and give you several weeks' worth of detention."

Teddy grinned. "Duly noted, Professor."

"Not that I expect any sort of bad behaviour from you. It was just a friendly warning." There was definite humour in Professor McGonagall's voice.

"I promise I'll be good. I'm here for work, and besides, I don't even have the Marauder's Map anymore. I gave it back to Harry and James snuck it out of his desk when he was thirteen, so it's probably Al or Lily that you have to watch."

"I'll bear that in mind," Professor McGonagall said, a genuine smile gracing her face.

"You're such a tell-tale," I complained to Teddy as we left the room.

"Yup," he agreed, "But at least I'm a good Auror, which is what you want to find your boyfriend."

My stomach spasmed uncomfortably. He was right – that was all I wanted.

_Please let him be alright._


	13. Curses

"Ow!" It was the third time I had thrown myself unceremoniously at the door, and I had accomplished nothing except giving myself several incredibly purple bruises. I hated having fair skin sometimes.

This was no use. I was never going to get anywhere by using brute force, especially since I apparently had none to begin with. Grinding my teeth together in frustration, I picked myself up off the floor and aimed a kick at the wood in one last-ditch attempt.

"Oh, for Salazar's sake!" I cried, hopping up and down on one leg. I didn't have a six-inch deep gash in my side anymore, but I probably had a broken toe. Why couldn't I, for once, stop being such an idiot? I was going the right way to being the human equivalent of a smashed up bag of crisps, if I carried on at this rate.

"Scorpius, please refrain from throwing yourself at the door. It's very undignified." My grandfather's lofty voice piped from through the thick wood. I growled like a feral cat and stalked to the other side of my cell, only slightly limping.

"Fuck off," I replied in a hoarse rasp. My voice sounded like rusty nails scraping against a metal pole.

"Your language is appalling," he commented amusedly.

"Your behaviour is appalling," I muttered darkly. I sank to the floor, my bare back pressed firmly against the cold stone wall. It was surprisingly hot in the cellar, so the cool stone served as an ice cube against my skin.

"Scorpius, if you would stop trying to wrestle my wand out of my hand every time I came into the room, I would have let you out of the cellar a long time ago."

"Would that mean more face-time with you? Cause if that's the case, I'll stay here, thanks."

He chuckled, a chilling sound. "I don't know how Draco managed to raise you to be so impolite."

"Well, I dunno how Dad managed to end up a decent guy with a complete Death Eater arsehole for a father," I spat out acerbically, feeling satisfied when I heard his jaw snap shut. Serve him right, the evil old man... ugh, what the hell did Grandma ever see in him?

"Now, now, Scor."

I blanched. "Don't call me Scor. You cannot snatch me away from my room and my girlfriend, assault me, lock me in a mini-jail and still call me _Scor_. There's just no way."

"Scorpius..."

"You know what I don't get? I don't get why you took me in the first place. Why bother? Why not just blast me off your goddamn family tree like Grandma's family were always so fond of doing, and just let me marry the half-blood?"

I hadn't intended on saying the word marry, so it surprised the hell out of me when I did.

It surprised the hell out of Grandfather too.

"Marry the half-blood? Well, you are planning far ahead, aren't you?"

I decided to mess with him while I still had the chance. "What do you mean, planning far ahead? I'm talking not-too-distant-future here. Hey, sorry but your invite got lost in the post."

"Scorpius, do not insult my intelligence. A seventeen year old boy like yourself is not thinking of marriage."

"I love Rose." That was my only answer. Let him glean from that what he wanted to.

There was a click, and the door swung open to reveal my grandfather, his wand aloft. "Lumos," he whispered, and his wand-tip ignited. He cast the beam on me, surveying me carefully.

"Scorpius, I really do care about you," he told me softly, and he could sense the scepticism in my silence, I was sure. "I was hoping to convince you..." he continued sadly, and my eyes narrowed. "But this seems to be the only way now. You leave me no choice."

"What're you...?" I began, my eyes widening.

"I want the best for my family, Scorpius. Believe me when I tell you that this is necessary." He sighed, and suddenly his face was closer to seven hundred than seventy. "I am truly sorry."  
I watched him direct his wand at my forehead, and my pulse spiked.

_Rose.._. I thought. It was my only thought, eradicating all others. I was about to die, and Rose was the only thing I cared about. _Rose, Rose I love you. Sorry. I'm so sorry._

Suddenly other faces flashed into my mind; my mother, my father, my sister. My long lost best friend Albus.

But it was mostly Rose.

I closed my eyes peacefully, waiting for the green light to sear behind my eyelids, the way everyone described.

The last thing I heard was my grandfather's voice, shouting a word that I wasn't expecting, but was as terrifying as the curse I had braced myself for.

"OBLIVIATE!"

Then the world went very black.

**A/N: Okay, short one, I know, and Scorp has had a memory charm put on him, so all very dramatic :P And just because I love cliff-hangers.**

**Next chapter will be Scorpius again, not Rose, and you'll learn about Lucius's motives and decide whether or not he really is such a bad guy (because he MIGHT just surprise you).**

**And on that note, I'll sign off. Hehe.**

**PJ x**


	14. Haze

My head was pounding so hard that I could feel the rhythmic pulsing of my heartbeat behind my eyes. I couldn't move, but then what was the need? I wasn't sure where I was, all I knew was that my eyelids were so heavy that they wouldn't open, and my brain was full of what felt like that white noise thingy that muggles get on their televisions.

I felt a jagged burning in my throat, and I groaned, pleased that I actually managed to connect my thoughts to my body in some way.

"Scorpius? You're awake?"

I knew that voice, but it was hard sorting through the foggy haze in my mind to place it. Silky, low and almost hypnotic... a deadly voice.

It clicked.

"Grandfather?" I rasped, still unable to open my eyes.

"Yes, Scor, it's me. How are you feeling?"

I felt a light pressure on my forehead, and was pleasantly surprised by my grandfather's gesture. He wasn't normally so kind.

"Like shit," I wheezed honestly.

"Scorpius, please, language." It amazed me how he could still call me on my manners when I was feeling like I was already half-dead.

"I feel terrible. Better?" That sentence hurt my raw throat, but I heard Grandfather chuckle.

"Much better. Why haven't you opened your eyes while I've been speaking to you?"

Ah, typical observant old man. "I forgot how." I had decided, until I managed to soothe my desiccated larynx, I would speak in sentences of three words or less.

"Can you try and remember for me?"

I counted slowly to three in my head, and summoned up a surprising amount of willpower from my weakened state to cause my eyelids to open a crack. Then a little more. Bright light poked me sharply in the eyes, but I kept going.

Millimetre by millimetre, I managed to coax open my eyes, and was surprised to see that I was lying in my bed in Malfoy Manor, my grandfather perched on the duvet beside me. I blinked repeatedly.

"What am I doing here?" I asked, then winced as my gullet burned anew.

As if he sensed my predicament, Grandfather held a glass of water out in front of me, a slight smile on his face. I took it with one shaky hand, sipping the water clumsily.

The relief was instant and wonderful. I gulped the rest of my drink down greedily, and handed him back an empty glass, water dripping from my chin.

"Thank you," I mumbled.

"You're quite welcome."

"Grandfather, what am I doing here?" My repeated question caused my grandfather's face to twist into an uncomfortable grimace. My pulse increased slightly.

"Scorpius... what do you remember as the last thing you were doing?"

I frowned, trying to think... I remembered... Something to do with Lena and a broom. And... a snitch... an owl... I remembered shouting, storming out of somewhere... a Quidditch match against Ravenclaw... spilling a potion down my front... Albus Potter cornering me by the Head's portrait – stupid git – and demanding something... eating toast... walking into Hogsmeade... Sophie telling me to stop moping... the sound of shattering glass...

I couldn't say which order these memories came in.

"I don't know..." I began, feeling ridiculously stupid. How could I not know where I had been or what I had been doing last?

Grandfather closed his eyes in apparent anguish. "I was afraid of this," he sighed.

"Afraid of what?" My voice rose a few octaves to an unnaturally high pitch.

"Scorpius, at school you had an... accident. When you were playing Quidditch you took a bludger to the head and you fell seventy feet onto concrete. It's a miracle you weren't killed. Your broom broke your fall."

"WHAT?" I yelled, and then clapped my hand to my forehead. Shouting did not help headaches.

"You honestly don't remember?" he asked, and he looked as if he were fiercely hoping for me to tell him I was messing around. I shook my head slowly, fighting back the shameful tears that were beginning to sting my eyes.

"I don't remember anything. Well, I remember Quidditch, but..."

"You swooped to save that Potter girl and you ended up being hit with a bludger. Chivalry doesn't always pay." He smirked at me.

"Lily Potter?" I checked, knowing that there was only one Potter girl in our school.

"The little redhead. The one in your house, a couple of years below you."

"Yes, that's Lily." Huh, maybe I did save her. That was uncharacteristically gallant of me.

"So... then what?" I really didn't remember any of this. Or much of anything at all, to be quite honest.

"Then Professor McGonagall sent for your father, and he took you to St Mungo's to make sure that you weren't seriously damaged. They told your parents to make sure that you were well looked after in comfortable surroundings until you got better, so they chose here, as your grandmother and I can take care of you full time since we retired. They told us to expect some memory loss..." he trailed off, his lips pressing into a grim line.

"That... that's alright then... right?" I faltered, desperate for some form of reassurance.

"Yes, yes, it's fine," he answered, but he looked far from convinced.

"How many days have I been unconscious?" I asked warily, dreading the answer somewhat.

"Five."

"F-FIVE?" I spluttered.

"Yes, Scor, five. Please calm yourself down, it's okay."

"Okay..." I let out a huge breath. "I'm calm, I'm calm."

"You should sleep. You need your rest. Your grandmother and I will be around if you need us," he said softly, before standing up in one sweeping movement and making his way to the door.

"Thanks, Grandfather," I murmured, before closing my heavy eyelids again.

_All that was in my direct line of sight was a black door. The corridor I was hurrying down was blank and ministerial, but I barely noticed it. I was too fixated on the black door at the end. _

_As I got nearer, I broke into a run. The corridor was disappearing beneath my feet as I sprinted, and a strange whispering was invading my ears, growing louder and louder until it became a frantic screaming. My pace quickened to such a speed that my sides ached and my lungs burned with the effort, but still I kept going._

_The screaming was making my ears ring, it was setting my teeth on edge, but I had to do something, I had to help..._

_I reached the door at last, and suddenly stopped dead. _

_I was afraid to open the door, but I knew that it would be worse if I didn't. The seconds ticked by, the screaming still piercing my eardrums more successfully than a knife could have. I dithered, unsure, unnerved._

_I gasped in one quick breath, and reached for the door handle, twisting and tugging it towards me in one sharp movement. _

_The screaming cut off entirely as the door revealed the horror behind it._

_There was a stranger, a figure with a black cloak and a mask, standing in the solitary beam of filtered light in the dark room, their wand in their left hand, and the arm of a frightened girl in his other. His wand was pressed to her throat._

_I looked into the girl's face, frozen in fear, to see wide, ocean blue eyes and a pale face framed by fiery red hair._

_"Rose..." I whispered, terrified._

_"Scorpius, run," she pleaded. "Run now!" _

_"Don't run, Malfoy," the hooded figure wheedled. "Stay... I won't hurt you... or her."_

_"Don't trust them, Scorpius!" Rose begged, her eyes wild and fearful. "You can't trust the Death Eaters!"_

_There was a chuckle from inside the hood, and the voice spoke again. _

_"You can't trust her... she is one of them... you are one of us... this is the only way..."_

_"What are you...?" I began, but my sentence died on my lips as I figured out what the figure meant._

_The wand in Rose's jugular twisted fractionally._

_"AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

_Green light seared my eyes._

_"NO!"_

I sat bolt upright, shaking from head to toe and drenched in a cold sweat. It was all dark in the manor now, and I could see the shadows of the gossamer curtains trailing along the wall like ghosts as the wind fluttered them.

My breath was coming in short, ragged gasps.

It had something to do with Rose. There was something wrong, and it had something to do with the Weasley girl I swore to myself I would stay away from.

The girl I swore I would stop loving.

"We can't trust any of them, Narcissa!" A low hiss in the darkness made me start. My grandfather was in the hallway beyond my room, I could see the chinks of light through my closed door. He was clearly speaking to Grandma.

"Lucius, this is deceitful. I know your intentions... but think of Draco and Astoria! Our son and daughter-in-law will be worried out of their minds! Not to mention our granddaughter... and Scorpius! Surely he must be frightened?" Her whispered snap was less audible, but I had had practice listening to their conversations.

"Sweetheart, do you think I told him the truth? Of course not! The boy is seventeen, he would be terrified! And he is stubborn, Narcissa, more so than Draco ever was, far more than you or I. He is like Bellatrix in that way."

Grandma's breath escaped in a low hiss. "Never compare our darling grandson to her. Blood or not, she is no sister of mine. Scorpius is nothing, _nothing_ like Bella!"

"No, of course not, I only meant his tenacity is reminiscent... Darling, this is not the issue! The point is, if Scorpius knew the truth..."

"He deserves to know why you're keeping him here!" she argued.

"Narcissa, I feel guilty about deceiving him, you know I do. But it is the best way. Hear me; if he knew the truth, he would not stay put. He would fight everyone and anyone to prevent anything from happening and I cannot risk losing my grandson to these people! I won't!"

"It's his choice, Lucius. I love him, too, but he is a man, and he deserves to be told. This will devastate him, and he will only hate you if you don't say a word."

Grandfather sighed an ancient sigh of grief. "I would rather have him around to hate me."

"Lucius..." her voice was gentle now, beseeching.

"No. I am sorry if this is distressing you Narcissa, I truly am, but this is for the best!" He was adamant about that at least.

"What if the girl is killed?" Grandma whispered in a fearful tone.

"I... I don't want to think about that. At least Scorpius will be safe."

"Do you think he will ever be right again? His heart... it will be shredded, Lucius, you underestimate how love can..."

"I underestimate nothing! I know all too well how love can change a person! I stopped fighting the war a long time ago, I stopped believing in anything that could harm my family. I will do anything... anything Narcissa... to protect the people I love. You, Draco, Scorpius, Selena, Astoria..."

"I know, I know," she soothed him. "But is Scorpius not entitled to protect _her_ as you would protect me?"

"He won't want to. He won't remember."

I frowned, deeply confused.

"Why...?" Grandma gasped audibly. "You didn't! Lucius, how could you? You stole away our grandson's memories and lied to him!"

"I did what I needed to do," he said calmly.

"Lucius! He will never forgive you for this," Grandma whimpered.

"Then let him hate me for the rest of his long life, Cissy. Let him."

I heard the sound of two sets of footsteps leading away from the door, and then the muffled sobs of my grandmother fading slowly away after them.

My mind was whirring.

Grandfather had _obliviated_ me? The anger that seared in my blood died almost immediately as the ghost of the desperation in his voice continued to echo in my ears.

I would want to save a girl? But...

Rose.

My blood seemed to freeze over painfully as I even thought her name.

My dream was real, somehow. A subconscious warning.

I had to save Rose.

I wished I knew what from or how.


	15. The Equation

**A/N: I know we haven't had Rose for a while, but it really just makes more sense when this part is written in Scorpius POV. If you like Scor, I suppose, you're sorted. But you'll be hearing from Rose soon, I just couldn't write her until I got this chapter out. Also, Scorpius is kind of blind sighted by anger, and Narcissa and Lucius really do want to protect him, contrary to what he thinks. Read my other fic, The Killer In Me and you may well hate them less. Hehe I'm getting good at this self promotion thing... *pats self on back* :D**

Grandma brought in the breakfast tray and set it down on the edge of my bedspread, her smile seeming pretty forced. I was amazed that she had gone along with Grandfather's plan and managed to look me in the eye and lie to me for nearly a week now. I had been almost imperceptibly trying to break her with my best puppy dog eyes and 'tortured and confused' routine, but she still hadn't budged. If I hadn't been so pissed at her, I would have been impressed.

"Scor, honey, how are you feeling today?" Grandma raised a fragile arm and smoothed the hair from my forehead lovingly. It set my teeth on edge that she could still behave like a normal concerned grandmother after everything that she knew.

"I'm a little tired," I croaked theatrically, hamming it up a bit. I learned that off my dad – he absolutely milks his illnesses for all they're worth – I think it's a secret ploy to get Mum to do absolutely anything he asks... she does tend to dote on him something awful when he's not well.

"Well, eat your breakfast and then go for a sleep sweetheart, hmm?" she suggested. I gazed into her pale, pretty face, staring her straight in her apparently earnest blue eyes. She was so slight and feminine and unassuming... the last person I'd expect to stab me in the back. Ironic, isn't it, how she could save Harry Potter, the boy she was meant to hate, but she wouldn't help her own grandson? Of course, I shouldn't really be surprised, should I? She saved Harry Potter by... you guessed it... _lying_. To bloody _Voldemort_.

Note to self; never underestimate my grandmother again.

"Yeah, I might," I answered, slumping pathetically against my pillows. She clucked in a maternal way.

"Scor..." she began, and I watched as she chewed on her lip. Maybe she had had enough of the guilt that was no doubt eating her up? Maybe she was going to come clean and fill in the outrageously huge blanks. "If you aren't very hungry, leave some stuff. I don't mind."

I sighed. Apparently not, then. "Okay, Grandma, I will."

She nodded, a small smile gracing her delicate features.

That smile pissed me off no end. "You know, I have no idea how this happened," I informed her, gesticulating around the bed I was propped up in.

"Yes, sweetheart, your grandfather told me."

Still lying. Un-freaking-believable. "It's really weird... y'know? I'm amazing at Quidditch, I never, and I mean _never_, fall off my broom or get hit by a bludger. They couldn't catch me. And then all of a sudden... hey, did Grandfather tell you why they brought me home?" I deliberately referred to the manor as 'home' to make her feel wretched. I had no idea if it worked or not... her poker face was pretty good.

"It was to let you recover in familiar surroundings," she lied smoothly. Damn, she had practiced with Grandfather, obviously.

"How did it even happen, again? Grandfather said, but I think I must have forgotten..." I drew out my last word deliberately, hoping to force some kind of reaction from her. Nothing.

"You were hit by a bludger, sweetheart."

I rolled my eyes. "That never happens."

"You were saving some girl, apparently... I think it was Sophie Avery..."

I had to fight with myself to keep from grinning. Now, I knew for certain she had slipped up, because a) Grandfather had told me it was Lily Potter I had saved, and b) Sophie didn't even play Quidditch. She could barely ride a broom in a straight line.

"You're sure?" I frowned, trying to look desperately lost and vulnerable.

"Yes," she nodded reassuringly, straightening my pillows behind my head. _Big mistake, Narcissa, big mistake_, I thought smugly. I knew that it didn't help me in any way, but when you were working with next-to-no information, you had to count even the smallest of victories.

* * *

I had been practicing sneaking around at night when I was supposed to be out cold, and I had gotten pretty good at it. In fact, I had gotten really good at it. I tiptoed along the corridor of the East Wing, where my bedroom was, and crept slowly down the stairs, reminding myself to jump the creaky one. I thought it was probably the after-effects of a particularly strong caterwauling charm that Grandfather had placed on the stairs to stop Dad from sneaking out when he was little that caused the staircase to admit that loud wail whenever you put any weight on the bottommost step.

I landed lightly on the floor of the foyer, and began to creep across the darkened entranceway with only the moonlight keeping me from groping my way through utter darkness. I could hear muted voices coming from the drawing room, so I slid around the corner towards the slightly ajar door as silently as a shadow, pressing myself against the dark wood panelling and regulating my breathing so that it was not loud enough to alert the inhabitants of the room to an eavesdropper.

I silently thanked Albus Potter that he had been my best friend for my first two years of Hogwarts – it was from him, indirectly, I guess, from his legendary father – that I learned all the tricks that had made me so stealthy.

Grandfather's voice drifted out through the crack in the door.

"On the Ministry?"

There was nothing but an extremely tense silence for the next few seconds, before another voice I vaguely recognised spoke in a calm, reverberating baritone. "Yes, Lucius, on the Ministry. Are you... are you sure that you can handle this?"

That slow, deep, soothing voice... I stifled a gasp. That was the Minister for Magic... that was Kingsley Shacklebolt!

"I can handle it," Grandfather replied waspishly. "I managed to regain and keep their trust, didn't I?"

"You have been excellent, Lucius. Immeasurably brave. You deserve the recognition that I made sure Severus Snape had. But you are also making his mistakes, Lucius. He was always the silent hero, and everybody thought he was the villain. You're following his lead. If you let me inform the Order..."

That voice nearly made me keel over in shock. The too-wise-for-his-years tones of none other than Harry Potter.

It was only then that I really registered what he was saying. Comparing Grandfather to Severus Snape?

"I owe you a debt, Potter. You saved my son's life... all of our lives, at one point. Consider this my repayment. I don't want thanks."

"Whether you want my thanks or not, you have it," Harry Potter said solemnly. "We could never have gotten this far without you, Lucius..."

"My grandson despises me for lying to him. I know he does... I can see it in his face. He knows that something is wrong, but he can't quite... even Narcissa is furious."

"Did you obliviated him, like we suggested?" the Minister asked.

"Yes, but still... he's an intelligent boy... he senses things. I'm beginning to wonder if Draco didn't teach him Legilimency."

"He'll understand soon enough, and don't worry about Narcissa, she'll calm down. She knows this is for the best," Harry cajoled him.

"I'm lying to _her_ half the time," Grandfather sighed. "I never lie to Narcissa, not since... not since before I became an official Death Eater when I was nineteen... she made me promise that night, or else..." I heard him swallow loudly. "I never lie to Narcissa," he repeated.

"She'll understand," Shacklebolt vowed.

"I wish I had your conviction," Grandfather replied.

"If it makes you feel any better," Harry offered, "I think Ginny is getting suspicious."

"What about Rose?" Grandfather asked. My heartbeat was suddenly so loud that I could barely hear their voices.

"She's clueless, but she hasn't been paying me much attention. She loves him so much... I feel horrible for lying to her, but it's the only way to keep her out of harm's way. I suppose it's the same with Scorpius..." I felt stunned once more as I realised there was a fourth person in the room. Ron Weasley, Rose's father. I would recognise his voice anywhere. Ever since that day in Fourth year when I chased after Rose in Hogsmeade the morning after the Yule Ball, when she'd seen me kissing Sophie...

Ron Weasley had been coming to meet her. He took one look at Rose, crying profusely and wrenching her arm from my grasp, and then laid into me with some of the choicest language I had ever heard. It was hard to forget what he sounded like after that.

"Well, yes, but Scorpius doesn't know that they were even romantically involved," Grandfather allowed. "I suppose Rose's predicament is a little worse."

"Scorpius doesn't remember, huh?"

"Not at all."

"Wow. Rosie is in bits. You must have really put the whammy on him, because I _hope_ for his sake he wouldn't forget her that easily otherwise..."Ron's voice carried a very threatening edge to it.

"Especially not with the Rose-losing-her-virginity-to-him stuff," Harry chipped in.

"Please, _please_, shut up!" Grandfather and Ron chorused.

WHAT. IN. THE. NAME. OF. MERLIN...?

Surely, surely I would remember that? Hell, I'd dreamt about it often enough... if pretty much every night since I was fourteen was often. But as I searched my memory I found... nothing but blank, empty spaces. I had nothing in my mind regarding Rose more current than the train journey home to King's Cross at the end of sixth year.

And we definitely hadn't had sex then.

If ever there was a reason to murder my grandfather, this was it. Right now. My muscles were already tensed to spring, my hand reaching into the pocket of my trackies, and... it closed on empty air.

_Shit!_ I forgot I didn't have a wand.

"...over it again," Shacklebolt was saying as I tuned in again, having resigned myself to listening in the absence of a wand to do some damage. "Harry, you lead the Aurors to the Department of Mysteries, and the rest of the Order will be hiding in the gallery. The Muggle-borns will be with the Death Eaters, but that's okay, as long as we all get a clear shot at them. We know that Rodolphus will want Rose, so we put her..."

"I do not want to use my daughter as bait, Kingsley!" Ron snarled, interrupting the flow, but I could not agree with him more. If anyone hurt Rose, I would quite happily strangle them to death with my bare hands.

"Of course not, Ron. We put her in the way, not so much as so she is in danger, but enough to entice Lestrange out for vengeance. Once he breaks away from the others, they've lost their leader, so everyone else comes out of their places and rounds up the Death Eaters. Lucius, since you will be in the throng, you can steer the Muggle-borns to safety. Are we clear?"

There were murmurs of general assent in the room.

"Why did you feel the need to keep Scorpius out of the way, Lucius?" Harry suddenly piped up, voicing the very question that had been running through my mind. "Why go to such lengths?"

"Because..." Grandfather began, sucking in a deep breath. "I know my grandson. When you ask Rose to help, she will go missing for a few days, right? And Scorpius... even before I knew they were together, I was formulating this plan. Scorpius would be careless, he would find out she was gone and hunt her down, jeopardising all our plans. He is rash, but incredibly gallant, and I know that he would dive in to rescue her, regardless of the detriment to himself. And the idea that he would get hurt during the crossfire, or worse, it was unbearable. He's my only grandson, and as much as I seem to be cold, I do love him."

"That's obvious," Harry agreed.

"Wait..." Ron's tone was perplexed. "You said you were thinking about Scorpius running off to save Rose _before_ you knew they were together? Why would you do that?"

I almost _heard_ my grandfather smirk. "Weasley, as much as it pains me to admit it, my grandson has always been in love with your daughter. And love plus danger invariably equals disaster."

I heard shuffling, followed by footsteps echoing through the grand room towards the door. Panicking, I hurtled along the corridor and into the foyer, jumping the first step and all but sprinting up the stairs and back into my room. I collapsed on the other side of the door, panting hard.

My mind was reeling from that onslaught of information. My grandfather was playing the good guy? That was a new one. My anger seemed to ebb the more I thought over his explanation... he was complimentary about me, that was for sure, in a back-handed, Grandfather-ish way.

The last thought that seemed to settle in my head was the best one. _If Rose and I... they said she was in bits... she... loves me. _

_Rose loves me._

Grandfather was right, love plus danger tended to equal disaster. There was only one thing he didn't factor into the equation.

Knowledge.

And now that I knew...

I lay on the floor for hours. The cogs were clicking in my brain, constantly shifting until finally they shivered to a stop when the sun started to filter through my curtains. I smirked victoriously to myself.

I had a plan.

* * *

**A/N: If Rodolphus is confirmed dead and I have stupidly overlooked it, suspend disbelief for this story, okay? Thanks and much love and appreciation to all those who are sticking with Rose and Scorpius, and by default, me. :D**

**PJ x**

* * *


	16. In On The Plan

I was so far beyond tired, but I refused to close my eyes for even a second. Scorpius was still out there somewhere, only Merlin knew where, and I had to find him. I didn't know what I would do if I didn't.

I refused to even think about it.

McGonagall had given me some time off to recover from my shock, which was her way of allowing me to aid my family in the search. I did everything I knew how to; in short, I read books cover to cover, desperately trying to find anything remotely useful. It was the first time books had failed me in that way.

That was why at two in the morning I was hunched over _A Compendium of Twentieth Century Dark Wizards _in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, ignoring Kreacher's mutterings from the cupboard and waging an all-out war on my eyelids to force them to remain open.

"Rosie, what are you doing up?" A voice broke through my narrow-minded study, causing me to jump nearly a foot in the air. I clutched at my heart as I twisted my neck round so quickly that it was painful to stare at my Uncle Harry, who was slouching against the doorway of his own study with an unfathomable expression on his face.

"I can't sleep. I've read everything, but there's nothing... I don't..." I trailed off, slamming the cover of the book I was reading shut. "It's pointless."

"Rosie, you won't find Scorpius by reading, you do know that, don't you?" he asked gently.

"Of course I do. I'm not an idiot. I just... I wish there was something I could do that would stop me feeling so useless."

My shoulders sagged and I slumped forwards so that my cheek was resting on the polished mahogany desk. Uncle Harry moved further into the room so that he could brush the hair from my face, seemingly at a loss for anything constructive to say.

"You really love him, don't you?" he asked, his voice gentle. I nodded.

"I really do. More than anything."

For some reason, Uncle Harry seemed to look a bit guilty. I gazed up at his face, skewed at a funny angle from my position, and frowned.

"Uncle Harry?" I asked, knowing that he knew I could see his discomfort.

"Rosie, can I ask you to do something for me?" he murmured. I pushed myself up off the table so that I was better able to read his face. Nodding hesitantly, I waited for him to offer me some more information.

"I need your help. Look, you have to promise me that you will just trust whatever I say, no interruptions, and you can make a decision when I'm finished. Okay?"

"Okay," I promised, waiting with baited breath.

"I know where Scorpius is." He held up one hand when I showed every sign of interrupting. "He's safe, he's with his grandfather. Rose... Lucius Malfoy, your father, Kingsley and I have been working together on a secret operation to catch the remaining militant Death Eaters. We haven't disclosed the information yet, but twenty muggle-born wizards and witches that were soon to receive their Hogwarts letters have been abducted... by Death Eaters."

I gasped. "But they're ten!" I protested, aghast. Uncle Harry seemed to allow my interruption, patting me consolingly on the shoulder before continuing.

"We have a plan to trap them in the Ministry, the Department of Mysteries, and ambush them. The whole Order is going to be involved, we haven't discussed it yet, but your dad and I will tell them tonight. I will lead in some Aurors, and the others will be hiding. We'll make it like a chase and the Death Eaters will certainly go for it."

"Okay... where do I come into this?" I asked, wishing he'd get to the point. All the fighting talk scared me. Practically my entire family was in the Order...

"I need you to lure the Death Eaters into a particular area of the Department of Mysteries. One Death Eater, specifically... Rodolphus Lestrange?"

I gulped. I had read that name in history books, often coupled with another... one that made my blood run cold... _Bellatrix Lestrange_.

"You want me to be bait?" I enquired shakily.

"You don't have to," Uncle Harry put in quickly, "And Merlin knows I don't _want_ you to, but it's the only way I can think of to separate Lestrange from his followers. I'm not saying it wouldn't be dangerous..."

"The Order of the Phoenix... if I do this, can I join?" I asked, suddenly eager. I had always wanted to solidly belong to the select group, to be one of the good guys, quantifiably.

"If you do this, you're already a member," Uncle Harry replied, grinning.

"Why me, though?" I wondered, the thought only just occurring to me.

"Well... Rodolphus Lestrange wants revenge on the Weasley family for killing his wife. Since every single Weasley older than you is in the Order and will be hiding, we need you to be out in the open."

"Wiggling on the hook," I agreed. I had already made up my mind.

"So... will you do it?" he asked.

"Yes," I answered immediately, but held up one finger, indicating a qualification was coming. "But first you have to tell me exactly what happened to Scorpius..."

I was desperately trying not to be angry with Uncle Harry for knowing and not saying anything, but the thought of saving all those kids quashed that sense of injustice and outrage, replacing it with an overriding feeling of importance.

"Well..." Uncle Harry began, "Lucius thought that..."

* * *

**A/N: I am posting a few Rose/Scorpius flashbacks in a fic entitled Roses And Their Thorns, and I just wanted to let you all know in case you were interested. Some are mentioned in this story, including Rose POV of her first kiss with Scorpius and the fight in Hogsmeade that Scorp mentioned last chapter. I am also taking requests of things you could imagine them doing/arguing about. **

**PJ x**


	17. Showtime I

"Are you sure you want to do this, Rosie?" Uncle Harry checked with me for the millionth time. "You don't have to if you're scared. I'll understand."

Dad shot me a sheepish look from where he stood by the door, and I glowered at him. I wasn't happy with either of them, not after the way they lied to me and made me worry myself to death about Scorpius… but Uncle Harry was leading the operation, so I had to be polite to him if I wanted to save the thirty or so eleven year olds. And I most certainly did. Dad, on the other hand… I could ignore him until the cows came home, and I planned to.

"I'm fine, Uncle Harry. Where do I stand again?"

"Lucius is going to herd them through this door in front of us," he explained, pointing to the main entrance to the gallery where we stood. It looked kind of like an old stone amphitheatre, only instead of a stage in the middle, it was a raised platform with some sort of veil standing on top of it, the moth eaten curtain fluttering in a non-existent breeze. "And then the Order will pop up from the seats here, here and here," he pointed to each place in turn as he mentioned them. "You'll stand on the platform here." He indicated a spot in the centre of the room, next to the stone archway and the fluttering veil. I repressed a shudder.

"Okay, fine. I can do this. It's just standing, right? Nothing more complicated than that?"

"Right, of course, sweetie," Dad interjected. I shot him another icy glare, and the next words he had been about to say died on his lips.

I deliberately turned to Uncle Harry again. "It's just standing, right, Uncle Harry?"

He nodded seriously. "Yes, Rosie, just standing."

"Okay, I can do that. No problem."

"Rozee? Eef you feel at all afraid, don't 'esitate to tell one of ze Order and we will put anuzzer person in your place," Aunt Fleur assured me with a soothing pat on the shoulder. I nodded again, feeling that my head would probably detach from my shoulders with all the nodding I had been doing today.

"And Rose?" Mum called for my attention, and I turned obediently towards her.

"Yeah?"

Her face was pale with worry. "Wand in hand at all times, sweetheart."

I smiled reassuringly at her, not wanting her to worry about me. She did enough of that at home. "Mum, I'll be armed, I assure you."

"If in doubt of what spell to use, I find expelliarmus always does the trick," Uncle Harry informed me, winking.

I smiled in spite of myself. That was how he had defeated Voldemort, even though all the Order had told him that spell was a waste of time under the circumstances.

Dad glanced at his watch. "Uh, Harry?"

"Positions, everyone," Uncle Harry commanded in a clear voice. "Good luck, Rosie," he whispered to me, before leaving my side and running along one of the stone benches to his own place. I climbed down a few rows of seats until I reached the platform with the stone archway.

Feeling self-conscious, I hoisted myself onto the raised plinth. It immediately made me feel as though I were giving a public speech – my palms began to sweat ever so slightly.

I glanced at my own watch, and realized I had only about a minute until I was in the thick of it. I only had a minute until those double doors burst open and I was confronted by twenty angry Death Eaters.

I gulped.

"Teddy, get down!" I heard Uncle Bill hiss, and then came the gruff "Sorry," that was Teddy's response.

Silence descended upon us, and you could feel the tension in the room, like a tangible shroud covering all of us. If we screwed this up, it wasn't just our lives at stake. It was a gaggle of kids lives too.

I counted the seconds in my head, praying that it would be over soon.

The silence was deafening, the only thing I could focus on was the rhythmic, heavy pounding of my heart, and the thought that I would see Scorpius once this was all over.

Scorpius…

A whimper from the other side of the door broke the spell of solemn silence, and then all at once a deep, clear voice enunciated one incantation.

"_Alohomora_!"

* * *

**A/N: Okay, yes, shoot me if you will, it's been insanely long since my last update of this! However, I'm hoping for two in one day to make up for it, so stay tuned for Scorpius's next chap, which should be up later on. And thanks, if you've put up with me this long. Only three more chapters to go! :D**

**PJ x**


	18. Showtime II

I had been lurking for ages, and my knees were getting stiff. Being hunched up in a supremely awkward position for several hours wasn't as much fun as you might think, and my legs were suffering accordingly. I was sandwiched into the non-existent space beside my fireplace, just waiting for the moment that my grandfather would enter the room and floo himself to wherever it was that he needed to go. I had thought about it and thought about it, and I figured it was the easiest way to find out where he was going. If he'd have been a muggle I would have hid in the boot of his car, but this was the best I could manage.

Finally, the door opened very quietly, and in came Grandfather, Grandma at his heels. He was wearing long, black, hooded robes – his old Death Eater uniform, if I wasn't mistaken, and she was handing him several items as they walked; the cane that housed his wand, his mask, a pot of floo powder.

He set the floo powder down on the mantelpiece and secured the mask over his face. Taking his wand from the sheath of the walking stick, he directed it at the fireplace, muttering, "Incendio."

Hot, orange flames roared up from the previously undamaged tinder in the grate, and he pinched a handful of floo powder from the pot, leaning over to give Grandma a kiss.

"Good luck, darling," she whispered. "Stay safe."

"I love you," he replied, possibly the most tender thing I had ever heard my grandfather say.

Throwing the floo powder into the grate, he stepped into the now emerald flames, took one steeling breath and said, "The Ministry of Magic, London."

A whoosh of bright green, and he had vanished. Grandma sighed and leaned against the desk, biting her lip anxiously.

I chose that moment to reveal myself, sliding out of my hiding place between the mantel and the large, antique bookshelf.

Grandma gasped and clutched her heart. "Scorpius! Gracious, you scared me half to death!"

I seized a handful of floo powder from the jar, flashing her an apologetic glance over my shoulder as I did so. I pulled out my wand.

"Incendio!" I cried, relighting the grate. Grandma looked at me like I had gone insane.

"Scorpius, where are you going? What are you doing?" she gibbered.

"Sorry, Gran," I apologized. "It's for the best." I tossed the powder onto the flames and jumped into the fire. "Ministry of Magic, London!" I yelled, and the last thing I saw was my Grandmother's pretty, astonished face, before I was engulfed in a bright green flame.

* * *

"Ow, crap," I hissed as I pulled myself to my feet, examining the shallow grazes on my palms where I had skinned them as I landed in the fireplace. I dusted them off on my robes and glanced nervously around me. There was no sign of my grandfather, which meant there probably wouldn't be any Death Eaters either.

_Better safe than sorry, though,_ I thought, producing my wand from my pocket. I couldn't have looked more conspicuous if I tried, and I was grateful that it was virtually deserted at the moment. At least I was armed, if nothing else.

I tiptoed across the wide atrium, my footsteps ringing out as clear as a bell against the polished floor no matter how I tried to mask them. I sighed wearily. I was probably going to end up blowing my own cover.

"Of course not, I'm just saying that somebody will notice, that's all!" A voice hissed, coming from around the corner. I drew myself up against the wall and tried to stay as silent as possible.

"It certainly sounds like second thoughts to me, Nott," an extremely deep voice replied. It was only once I heard the name that I recognized the first speaker. Darren Nott. Someone who, at one time, I had considered my friend. My eyes widened in astonishment.

"I agree that the mudbloods should be stamped out before they get a chance to attend Hogwarts, of course I do! It's just… do we all want to end up in Azkaban?"

"We are not afraid of Azkaban anymore. Where is the harm? There are no Dementors."

"Runcorn, it's still prison!" Darren pleaded. I felt sick to my stomach. The urge to round the corner and jinx the pair of them into unrecognizable objects almost overwhelmed me suddenly, but I fought to regain control of myself.

"Follow me or don't, cowardly child. Either way, I am going to join the others in the north stairwell." And with that, I heard Runcorn's footsteps disappearing down the corridor until they faded into nothing.

I could tell by the heavy breathing that Darren had not moved, and that's when I seized my chance. Slipping around the corner silently, I found myself staring at Darren's back, his shoulders rising and falling with each deep breath.

"Darren?" I called softly, and he turned slowly at the sound of his name.

"Stupefy!" I hissed, pointing my wand at him. His eyes rolled backwards into his head, and he toppled over. My arms caught him before he could crash to the ground, and I laid him on the polished marble gently, glaring with disgust at his slack-jawed face.

It was then that I was struck with a brainwave. What a brilliant way to go incognito. Darren and I were a similar height, and a similar build…

I set about tugging off his Death Eater apparel, swapping it for my own jeans-and-shirt combo. Glancing down at my reflection in the floor, I noted with surprise how strong the similarity was between me and my grandfather – I had never really noticed before. I pulled up my borrowed hood, and fixed my mask into place. I stared down at Darren again, debating what to do with him.

"Incarcerous," I muttered, pointing my wand at his sleeping form. Thick black ropes shot out of its tip and bound his scummy, sleeping form, preventing any sort of escape. I grinned to myself in satisfaction.

_Now… which way did Runcorn go? _I glanced about myself, considering. The north stairwell, he had said. I placed my wand in the flat of my palm. "Point me," I whispered, and it immediately spun around to point to the left turning at the end of the corridor. I smirked, pleased that I'd thought to use that little trick.

I set off at a run towards the rest of the Death Eaters, hoping against hope that they didn't think to question me too invasively. I might be roughly the same size as Nott, but I sure as hell didn't sound or look like him. Lucky I had a mask.

* * *

By the time I joined the back of the huddle of Death Eaters, they were so caught up in animated conversation that they didn't even notice my arrival. I squeezed through a gap between two of them and found myself face-to-face with a cluster of prepubescent children, all scared out of their wits and gazing up at me with anxious eyes. My heart tugged guiltily.

I spotted my grandfather up ahead, and just as my eyes found him he raised his hands for silence.

"To the department of mysteries," he said clearly. "And we shall walk these children through the veil."

There was a chilling collective laugh of anticipation at his words, and I found myself following the crowd as we descended flight after flight of stairs, as we walked through corridor after strange corridor through the department of mysteries, until eventually we came upon a shiny black door.

"Are we ready?" Grandfather checked.

"Let's give these magic-stealers what they deserve," a voice growled, and I could've sworn that it belonged to Rodolphus Lestrange.

One of the children whimpered, and I felt another swell of nausea.

The Death Eater who I'd thought was Lestrange raised his wand, and pointed it at the black door purposefully. My heart was drumming out a new rhythm in my chest.

"Alohomora!" he cried, and the door swung open.

* * *

**A/N: Okay so all the action is happening in the next chapter :D. And it won't be pretty, I assure you. I'm not a fan of ultimately happy endings *evil smirk* I'll update soon!**

**PJ x**

* * *


	19. No Way Out

My eyes locked with a pair of ocean blue ones, and I nearly blew my cover there and then.

_Rose…_

She was chewing her lip in fear, her wand clutched tightly in her hand, her knuckles whiter than paper.

Lestrange pulled up short, and a horrible, throaty chuckle escaped him. I saw the goosebumps appear on Rose's arms from where I stood, and I noticed the ever so subtle tremor in her wand hand.

"It's a Weasley, it must be."

"Yes… Rose Weasley. Ron and Hermione Weasley's daughter," my grandfather informed him conversationally, and my hands clenched into fists angrily by my sides.

"Molly Weasley's granddaughter?" he asked, and Grandfather bobbed his head in acknowledgement. "Well… that's interesting. I owe Molly Weasley in kind for what she did to my wife."

Rose smirked, and it was done so skillfully that I realized with a start that she must have learned from me. I smiled beneath my mask.

"The way I hear it, the one person who your wife would want to avenge her death went not five minutes after her…" she said calculatingly, and we all heard Rodolphus snarl. I resisted the urge to laugh.

"We shall see who's so glib and confident in a minute, Miss Weasley."

"It will doubtlessly still be me, Mr Lestrange," she replied without skipping a beat.

_Go Rosie!_ I cheered in my head.

"Actually, you know… you're right… my wife was hardly what I'd call faithful… I really shouldn't care too much at all…" his cold voice brought fresh panic to my heart, and I tensed, gripping my wand tightly.

Lestrange took one step forward. "Say hello to her from me, would you Rose?" he asked, and then raised his wand. "Avada Ked-"

"PROTEGO!" I cried and a shield expanded between the two of them, so that the jet of green light that had been heading for Rose faltered and died when it hit the invisible barrier.

Lestrange turned to look at me incredulously, and I slowly peeled back my mask.

"You aren't Nott," he snarled, baring his teeth in anger. I raised my eyes to the gallery and saw what I had been searching for – the Order of the Phoenix, tensed to attack.

"Well spotted," I replied acerbically, and directed my wand at him. "Expelliarmus!"

His wand soared twenty feet in the air before landing with a clatter on top of the plinth where Rose was standing.

"Get him!" Lestrange roared, and I dived towards Rose, narrowly missing a jet of green light as it whizzed over my head.

I didn't notice the battle breaking out between the Order and the Death Eaters. I had reached Rose, and as soon as her hand found mine, everything else seemed to disappear.

"Rose… I…"

Her eyes were shiny with unshed tears. "I thought you were dead… or… I was so worried…" It was really true. She really did seem to love me. No tricks about it, and certainly no lies.

"I love you," I told her vehemently, and she smiled.

"I love you too," she whispered, and my heart soared. She stared up into my eyes for a second more, before her hands clamped down on my shoulders tightly, and she hurled me to the ground, landing on top of me. A jet of green light flared above us.

"Stupefy!" I yelled, pointing my wand at the offending Death Eater, and he crumpled like someone had hit him over the head.

I rolled over and jumped to my feet, my eyes searching wildly around me for someone to fight, or someone to help. I saw a muggle-born girl huddled on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest amid the onslaught of curses, and I thundered towards her, scooping her up as I ran and carrying her to relative safety behind one of the stone benches.

"Stay here," I instructed fiercely. "It's too dangerous out there." She nodded jerkily, her eyes like saucers.

"Impedimenta!" A curse struck me as I spun around, and I fell to the floor, completely losing the use of my legs. A throbbing pain in my ankle told me I'd twisted it on the way down.

A Death Eater, which one I couldn't tell, approached me menacingly, wand extended.

"Scorpius Malfoy, traitor to his bloodline…" a female voice hissed, and I realized with a jolt of shock that it was none other than Alecto Carrow herself. My anger flared, but I swallowed it down, preferring to answer with a snide comment. A loud bang hurt my eardrums.

"I'm not the first Malfoy to decide to play nice," I replied, right before my grandfather shouted, "Petrificus Totalus!"

Carrow keeled over, stiff as a board. My grandfather jogged over to my side, pointing his wand at me now.

"Finite incantatem," he said clearly, and held out a hand to help me to my feet. Something smashed high above our heads, powdering glass at our feet.

"Thanks," I told him earnestly, and he smiled.

"I'm proud of you, Scor," he admitted, and I couldn't help but grin.

"Grandfather, I…"

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

My grandfather's eyes bulged oddly, and he swayed on the spot. Gasping, I held out my arms automatically as he crumpled and fell into them, his eyes still staring right at me, and a caring smile still etched upon his face. My eyes filled with bitter, burning tears as I laid him down, and then stood up, wand pointing directly at the heart of my grandfather's murderer.

Rose stared back at me, her face blank with shock, her wand pointed at my chest and shaking.

"I… I didn't…" she whispered, tears streaming down her face. "I didn't know…"

I couldn't respond. I didn't even realize that the fighting had ceased, that Carrow was the last Death Eater to be rounded up. I didn't care.

I dropped to my knees beside my grandfather, pulling his head into my lap, and I gently closed his eyes. He looked so peaceful, so calm. I hoped that wherever he had gone to, he was happy.

"Scorpius," Harry Potter was at my side, placing a firm, guiding hand on my shoulder. "Scorpius, it's going to be okay."

Hot, salty tears were streaming down my face, and I was utterly at a loss for what to do. Rose had killed my grandfather… I didn't see how anything would ever be okay again.

I stood, so abruptly that Harry took a step back, and my eyes burned into Rose's. She was still sobbing silently, her own irises glued to me. I took a shaky breath, and then turned away from her.

I closed my eyes, not wanting to look anymore, and turned on the spot. Turned into nothingness.

I was being compressed on all sides… I couldn't breathe… I wasn't sure whether it was the apparition or the grief that was the culprit.

The feeling eased slightly, and I opened my eyes to find myself in the middle of Charing Cross Station. I was mildly surprised, I hadn't had a destination in mind when I apparated.

With one deep breath, I headed with the rest of the throng towards the green sign that shouted WAY OUT in capital letters.

I wished that it was really true.

I wished I had a way out.

* * *

**A/N: One chapter left!! And yes, I will try and update soon, but it will be a long one. **

**Drama galore, I know. Don't hate me! I said I wasn't a fan of _overly_ happy endings, but I am a fan of happy endings.**

**PJ x**


	20. Walking On Sunshine

**

* * *

**

Epilogue

_Five Years Later…_

"Can I get you anything else, sir?" I asked, sincerely hoping the answer was no. My boss glanced up from his book he was reading and boomed an answer in his American drawl.

"No, you run along now, Malfoy. Go do some paperwork or something."

I gritted my teeth, but refrained from making a comment. I was really good at that these days. An associate in a Wizarding law firm had to be good at keeping their mouths shut when in the company of their superiors. Even if said superiors were patronizing bastards.

"Yes, sir." I sighed and made my way out of his office, closing the door quietly behind me.

I half-ran back to my own office, grateful when I was shut inside it. I preferred life when nobody was around me – it just seemed easier that way.

No sooner had I sat down in my leather chair than my door opened again, and a paper plane steered itself directly into my 'In' tray. I picked it up and unfolded it, glancing at the message before sighing.

_Scorpius, _

_Your mother called again. She wants to know if you booked that vacation off work so that you could come to your sister's prize-giving ceremony for her OWLs. And she said in a pretty snippy tone that she would appreciate it if YOU could call her back this time. _

_That woman scares the crap out of me. _

_Oh, and Emily called for the seventh time. She's determined to stalk you until you ask her out again. Us New York girls are crazy like that._

_And Paige called. _

_And Louisa._

_And Nicole. _

_Do me a favor will you, and only date girls with the same name, like Beth or something? It's way easier for me to blow them off for you if I can pretend like I have a clue who they are._

_Darla._

I smiled at my secretary's phrasing. She was always a good laugh, hence why I hired her. But the contents of my message…

I sighed again, pinching the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger. I had already tried to tell her that I just couldn't manage to take the time off. She had argued, obviously, but she seemed determined to harass me until I caved in. I wouldn't back down though. I hadn't set foot in England since the worst day of my life, five years ago. I hadn't gone back to get my NEWT results. I hadn't even gone back for my Grandfather's funeral. I had apparated from an alleyway somewhere in London to an alleyway somewhere in New York, and I refused to go back across the pond.

Though, if I'm honest, it was only because I was terrified of seeing _her_ again.

It was cowardly to run away from my fears, but I hated admitting to myself that I still loved the woman who murdered my Grandfather. I didn't know what she looked like anymore. I didn't know what she acted like. I hadn't laid eyes on her for five years, two months and a day. Not that I was counting, or anything.

My father had told me that she was there at Grandfather's funeral. Her whole family showed up to pay their respects. She had begged Dad's forgiveness, had told him it was an accident, a dreadful mistake, that she thought he was trying to kill me. All of that was true, of course, but it didn't make it any easier that my grandfather was gone.

All the same, I could never bring myself to hate her.

My door opened again, and Darla poked her blonde head around the door. "Hey."

"Hey," I replied, not glancing up from the note. "What's up?"

"Some girl's outside to see you. I dunno whether she's a client or a date," she shrugged, grinning in spite of herself. "You change them both at the same lightning pace. I can't keep track."

I screwed up the memo and chucked it in the wastepaper bin on the other side of the room, making the shot easily.

"Send her in," I replied, waving one hand lazily.

Darla disappeared behind the door again, and I glanced down at my notes again, scanning them and trying to commit them to memory before trial this afternoon. I didn't glance up again until I heard the lock click.

"Hello, Scorpius," a nervous voice greeted me, and my head snapped up so quickly I almost got whiplash.

She had changed, but in the best way imaginable. Her hair was longer, and her curls were looser; she wore it down so that it tumbled to the middle of her back. Her eyes were the same blue as ever, although they looked slightly less innocent. Her general demeanour was less childish.

She stood self-consciously in the middle of the room, dithering and fiddling with the hem of her skirt.

I scrubbed one hand down my face, feeling my own stubble snagging the skin of my palm. I had forgotten to shave last night – I'd been too busy.

"Hello, Rose."

A tentative smile graced her features, and my heart jumped at how beautiful she was. I couldn't control the reaction any more at twenty three than I had been able to at eighteen, which was a little bit disheartening.

"You look fantastic," she told me, and then blushed and bit her lip, wondering, no doubt, if she'd overstepped the mark.

"I'm overworked," I replied in a soft tone, and she nodded.

"You do seem a bit tired."

"You look a damn sight nicer than I do, anyway," I remarked honestly, and then resisted the urge to slap one hand to my forehead. This was the biggest slippery slope I could possibly fall down.

"I'm sorry for just showing up like this. I was in New York for Molly's wedding tonight, and I picked up a copy of the New York Owl Post, and there you were, staring out at me from the front page. I just had to come and see you."

I nodded, feeling a little shell-shocked. I kept expecting her to disappear every time I blinked.

She gave me a sheepish look, and her feet twitched towards the door. "I'm disturbing you. I'm so sorry, I just… I'll go."

She started towards the door, but I was out of my seat with one hand extended towards her before she could take more than two steps. "No!" I protested. "Please, don't go."

"Okay," she replied, smiling slightly. "I'll stay."

She walked forwards and settled into one of the chairs facing my desk as I sank back into my desk chair.

"How have you been?" I asked, feeling that the question was slightly inadequate.

"I've… Scorpius, I'm so sorry. Words can't even begin to describe… when you left, after I… I couldn't live with myself. I tried to jump off the Astronomy tower, but I was rushed to St Mungo's and… well, I survived. But I didn't want to live, knowing what I did. Every day, all I wanted was to make it all stop. But I didn't, because I was desperately trying to find some way to eventually allow you to forgive me. I knew you would never love me again, but I still…"

"I forgive you, Rose. I forgave you the second you'd done it. I've never hated you. I left because… because I couldn't deal with my own life anymore. I didn't want to be Scorpius anymore, because he's the guy that fucks everything up. I was so tired of being that guy, Rose."

She stared at me with wide eyes, her mouth hanging open in utter disbelief.

"I still love you," she told me. My breath caught in my throat. "I always will."

I just stared at her, speechless and numb. I had no idea how to process her words. Five years apart hadn't changed the way I felt about her, but I had always assumed she would have moved on.

I was wrong.

She mistook my silence for something more hostile, as she clapped a hand to her mouth and stood up abruptly.

"Oh Merlin! You don't want to hear that, of course you don't!" she wailed, jumping out of her seat. "Scorpius, I… I'm such an idiot. I…" She didn't wait for me to respond, though in fairness I wasn't able to, before she turned around and fled from my office. I tried to get out of my seat, but my legs didn't want to work. My body was in a shut down mode of surprise.

Darla's head poked around the door again.

"Bad breakup?" she guessed. "That one was hot, Scor, maybe you should reconsider."

I just stared at her, slack-jawed, eyes bulging.

She laughed. "You look like you could use a drink."

I finally found my voice, and the words that came out were exactly the right ones. They didn't follow my head at all, but something much better. My heart.

"Darla, I need you to find me an address for tonight. A British woman called Molly Weasley is getting married. Find me where."

She nodded. "Have you taken to crashing weddings in the hopes of getting laid now? Whatever you do don't screw the girl who catches the bouquet."

I managed a smirk. "No. I'm more concerned about a single Rose."

* * *

I checked the address in my hand for the umpteenth time. The name matched the address of this yacht, I was sure. The music was soft and intimate, and great swells of people were milling around on the deck, some dancing, others drinking. It seemed like a wedding to me.

Someone was pulling back the ramp to let people on as I arrived.

"Excuse me!" I called, running up to the man in question. "I'm a guest, I'm meant to be on this."

He took one look at the tuxedo and seemed to need no further proof. "On you go, sir."

I made my way onto the boat nervously, wondering whether I would be welcome or not. I would rather not be tossed into the Hudson wearing a tuxedo… it would be highly embarrassing.

I spotted a girl standing over by the champagne table, and a smirk twisted the corner of my mouth upwards. As pretty as ever, with long, dark hair and big green eyes, there stood Sophie Avery, chugging down a glass of champagne as quickly as possible.

I made my way over to her slowly.

"Hey Sophie, long time, no see."

She spun around, and her eyes lit up in astonished wonder. "Scorpius!" She held out her arms for a hug, which I gladly returned.

"You look beautiful, Miss Avery."

She drew back from me with a rueful smile. "I think you'll find it's Mrs Potter now, thank you very much."

My jaw dropped. "You married Albus?"

She laughed. "Yeah, that's why I'm drinking like a fish. It's the only way I can put up with my brother-in-law."

I grinned. "James is still a pain in the arse?"

"Oh, of course he is. I think Lysander and Albus are plotting to dump him in the Hudson."

I was just thankful that it wasn't me going head-first into the river. "So are Scamander and Lily still an item?"

"No, Lily's with Rowan Flint now. Lysander is dating Samantha Longbottom."

"Wow…" I let out a low whistle. "That's kind of unexpected."

"Well, yeah… but only because you've been away so long." Sophie's smile faltered slightly, but she managed to recover herself impeccably.

"I'm making my way in the American Wizarding World," I informed her, sweeping a glass of champagne off the table and taking a sip.

"Where's the bride gone to?" Sophie asked, changing the subject entirely. She craned her neck over the crowd. "Ted was looking for her a couple of minutes ago."

"Lupin… how is he?"

"He's grand. Vicky is pregnant again; she's about ready to pop. That's the third one, now."

"And… how is Rose?"

Sophie's expression darkened slightly. "She's never really been the same. She's not dated, not really, not since you guys… she didn't forgive herself. And I kept telling her that you'd forgive her… it was me who persuaded her to come and find you today. I figured she'd invite you here."

She took another sip of wine and grinned at me. I pursed my lips.

"Well, she didn't exactly invite me…"

She snorted. "You're crashing?"

"She tells me she's still in love with me and storms out of my office. What was I meant to do?"

Sophie choked on her champagne. "What the hell are you doing talking to me, then? Go and find Rose!"

I nodded obediently, draining my glass and setting it down on the table. "Wish me luck," I said.

"Good luck," she responded, her eyes alight with hope. Sophie really was too nice to have ever been sorted into Slytherin.

I disappeared into the crowd, scanning every redhead in sight to see if the one I was after was there. I had no luck whatsoever – she could have been swallowed up by a giant fish biblical style and I wouldn't have had a clue.

Just then, there was a pause, and the unmistakeable sound of someone banging a piece of silverware on a glass. "Ladies and gents, it's time for the speeches," I glanced towards the small stage area to see none other than a virtually all-bald Arthur Weasley, an ear to ear grin on his face. "We'll start with the best man…"

I was struck by sudden inspiration. What if I…?

Pushing my way through the crowd, I jumped up the step onto the podium, standing beside Arthur. He looked at me in astonishment.

"You aren't the best man!" he accused, and I could tell by the red hue of his cheeks that he'd had a little too much champagne.

"No, I'm not." My voice blared out through the sound system – muggle, thanks to Arthur, no doubt – and everyone on the boat stopped to stare, falling silent immediately.

I seized the mic from the stand, praying that Rose was listening somewhere.

"I wasn't even invited today. I'm sorry for hijacking the evening, but I have something I really need someone to hear. See, when I was twelve, I somehow worked up the nerve to kiss this girl I liked, and ever since then… well, I haven't been able to stop thinking about her. I tried to forget her, believe me, I did, but the thing about her is that she refuses to be forgotten. She's like that one really good Christmas you have when you're a kid, and it sticks in your mind forever.

"She doesn't know this, but she really should know, especially before she goes home thinking that I don't feel anything for her, because that's just a lie." I took a deep breath, staring around the crowd at every face, each one turned towards me with a ridiculously soppy expression. "Rose Weasley… I've been in love with you since pretty much the first second I met you… and I always will be." I broke off, blushing furiously as I realised what an exhibition I had just made of myself. "And… well, that's all. You can have your speeches now. I just wanted Rose to… know that."

I climbed down and began to push my way through the crowd again, my cheeks burning, desperate for a place to hide. I wished the ground would open up and devour me whole. Hell, I wished someone would throw me overboard.

"Scorpius?"

Rose's soft, surprised voice broke through my embarrassed reverie, and I glanced upwards to find her staring at me. She looked beyond beautiful, her long, fitted blue dress the exact same shade as her eyes.

"Hello, Rosie," I muttered. She smiled incredulously.

"Did you really mean that?" she asked. I nodded, unable to trust myself to speak.

"I… I don't know what to say. That's the single most amazing thing anyone has ever done for me."

I bowed my head, unable to meet her gaze. "I love you. It had to be said."

"I'm glad you said it." My eyes met hers again, and I was lost in them. But even when I was drowning in her gaze, I felt safe. I was home.

"Will you marry me?" I blurted, unable to stop myself. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realised I didn't want to stop myself. I meant it.

"What?" she gasped, taken aback.

"I love you. I'm tired of fucking it up. Will you marry me?"

A single tear rolled down her cheek, and she raised one hand to shakily wipe it away before replying, "Yes."

Tentatively, I opened my arms to her, and she ran forwards, throwing herself into my embrace. Her hand found my cheek, and she pulled my face around, down to meet hers. Her lips touched mine, just as soft and sweet as I remembered, and when I pulled away she wasn't the only one crying anymore.

Slowly, all around us, the soft sound of applause reached my ears, as the guests began to clap.

"Don't cry, silly," I whispered, and she laughed thickly through her tears.

"I can't help it," she replied. "I've just found my pot of gold."

I frowned at her in confusion. "What?"

"At the end of the rainbow," she explained.

I smirked. "I've had enough of the rain."

"Me too," she murmured, and I pressed my lips to hers again. The band suddenly struck up a song, and I burst out laughing as I recognised the introduction.

"What's so funny?" Rose asked, leaning her head against mine.

"The song…" I explained. "It's called Walking on Sunshine."

Rosie laughed, and the sound was music to my ears. I wrapped my arms around her tightly, fixing her to me, knowing deep in my heart that I would never, ever let her go again.

I truly was walking on sunshine.

And don't it feel good.

* * *

**A/N: So this is it. The end. *Sniff* It's been a long long long journey, but now we're finally here. And Rose and Scorpius do live happily ever after. Yay. **

**Thank you all so much, those loyal people who have stuck with me. **

**Love to you all!**

**PJ x**

* * *


End file.
